THE    LOVE    OF    LANDRY 


THE  LOVE 
of  LAN  DRY 

By   PAUL    LAURENCE    DUNBAR 

Author  of  "LYRICS    OF   LOWLY    LIFE,"   "FOLKS 
FROM    DIXIE,"    "POEMS    OF  CABIN   &  FIELD,"  etc. 


NE  W   TOR  K  •  D  O  D  D,    MEAD 
-AND    COMPANY   •  MD  C  C  C  C 


Copyright,  ipooy  by  DODD, 
MEAD    AND    COMPANY 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS       •      JOHN  WILSON 
AND     SON       •       CAMBRIDGE,     U.  S.  A. 


&o  tng  fixizrib 
MAJOR   WILLIAM  COOKE  DANIELS 

IN   MEMORY   OF   SOME   PLEASANT   DAYS 
SPENT   OVER   THIS   UTTLE    STORY 


$522979 


The  Love  of  Landry 


CHAPTER  FIRST 

FOR  a  time,  at  least,  the  Osborne 
family  circle  was  to  be  broken 
up.  There  were  only  three  of  them 
in  the  big  old  house  in  Grramercy 
Park:  John  Osborne,  the  father,  and 
Helen  and  Mildred,  the  daughters. 
The  mother  had  died  when  Mildred 
was  less  than  ten,  and  since  then 
the  three  had  never  been  separated 
for  long  at  a  time.  Even  when  they 
were  away  for  the  summer,  the  father 
managed  to  join  them  every  week  or 
two  if  they  were  near  New  York,  or, 
if  far  away,  to  spend  several  weeks 
with  them  at  the  end  of  the  season. 
But  now  Mildred,  who  was  a  slight 
i  1 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

girl,  had  contracted  a  cough,  and  the 
doctor  had  ordered  her  away  from 
New  York. 

"  There  is,  at  present,  nothing  the 
matter  with  her  lungs,"  said  old  Dr. 
Van  Pelt.  "Nothing,  except  a  ten 
dency.  But  a  tendency,  my  dear 
sir,  is  a  thing  that  should  always  be 
stopped.  By  all  means,  always  stop 
a  tendency." 

"But,  Heavens,  doctor!  "exclaimed 
Osborne,  "where  shall  I  send  the 
child?  " 

He  was  usually  a  very  placid  old 
gentleman  until  something  came  near 
one  of  his  doves.  Then  he  was  apt 
to  become  nervous,  and  lose  his 
repose. 

"  Oh,  there  's  the  south  of  France, 

southern  California,  Colorado,  —  oh,  a 

dozen  places;  but  for  my  part,"  he 

added,  shaking  his  pince-nez  thought- 

2 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

fully,  "  I  should  go  to  Colorado. 
High,  dry  air,  out-of-door  life,  and 
in  a  year,  or  maybe  two,  our  young 
lady  comes  back,  blooming  and 
hearty." 

"But,  Van  Pelt,  man,  Colorado? 
why,  that  seems  almost  beyond  civ 
ilisation!  ' 

"  It  is  n't,  but  what  matter  if  it 
were  I  You  know  I  'm  a  doctor  of 
the  old  school,  although  I  Ve  kept 
up  with  the  new ;  and  it 's  one  of  my 
old-fogy  opinions,  sort  of  left  over, 
as  it  were,  that  civilisation  has  al 
ways  been  a  foe  to  good  health. 
When  our  ancestors  painted  them 
selves,  and  danced  impossible  things 
on  the  sand,  who  ever  heard  of  weak 
lungs'?  But  now,  after  a  season  of 
tripping  it  in  a  close  room  in  heavy 
silks,  my  lady  has  a  cough.  But  it 's 
no  matter,  John,  it 's  no  matter,  it 's 
3 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

a  slight  thing.  Pack  up  the  little 
girl  nevertheless,  and  take  her  away. 
Grood-morning.  (rood-morning." 

So  it  was  decided  that  to  Colorado 
Mildred  must  go.  But  then  the 
quandary  confronted  the  family,  who 
would  go  with  her?  There  were 
many  reasons  why  Helen  could  not 
leave,  and  the  father  thought  of  his 
business.  At  this  juncture  they  did 
as  they  always  did,  and  called  in 
council  Aunt  Annesley.  She  was 
the  sister  of  John  Osborne's  deceased 
wife,  a  widow  of  fortune,  and  pos 
sessed  of  very  positive  views.  She 
came,  and  the  case  was  laid  before  her. 

"  Hum,"  she  mused,  "  to  Colorado. 
Why  not  to  southern  France!  " 

"  The  doctor  prefers  the  former 
place." 

"  He 's  an  old  fogy,  and  I  don't  see 
why  you  have  him,  John." 

4 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Anna,  but 
he's  both  an  old  friend  and  an  ex 
cellent  physician." 

"  Oh,  I  mean  no  harm  to  your 
Van  Pelt.  He  comes  of  a  very  ex 
cellent  old  family,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  does  very  well  for  his  age. 
The  question  is  merely,  do  you  insist 
upon  Colorado!  '; 

"  We  do." 

"  Then  the  matter  simply  settles 
itself  without  further  discussion. 
John,  you  must  go  with  Mildred." 

"But,  Anna  —  " 

"  You  have  worked  long  enough 
and  hard  enough  to  take  a  year's 
vacation.  The  business  for  that 
length  of  time  can  do  without  your 
personal  supervision.  Now  don't  in 
terrupt  me.  You  know  that  Mildred 
must  have  some  one  of  her  near  and 
dear  ones  with  her.  Now,  Helen 

5 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

can't  go,  while  Mr.  Berkeley  —  that 
is,  while  matters  are,  as  at  present, 
in  statu  quo" 

Helen  went  furiously  red,  while 
Mildred  laughed  behind  her  hand. 

"I  would  go  myself,"  went  on  Mrs. 

Annesley,  "if  things  were  otherwise. 

,n    fact,   I   should  n't    mind    a  trip 

to  France;   but  Colorado  —  way  out 

there?  — never!  ' 

And  so,  because  there  was  no  gain 
saying  Mrs.  Annesley's  word,  this 
much  was  settled,  that  John  Osborne 
should  accompany  his  younger  daugh 
ter  out  West,  while  Mrs.  Annesley 
should  take  charge  of  Helen  and  their 
home. 

"And  I  do  hope,  my  dear,"  Mrs. 
Annesley  added  before  going,  "  that 
you  '11  take  good  care  of  yourself 
out  there  among  those  cowboys  and 
catamounts  and  things.  It  really 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

seems  terrible  to  send  you  to  such  a 
place. " 

"  Why,  Aunt  Anna,  I  'm  going  to 
wear  leggings,  and  go  deer-hunting," 
laughed  Mildred;  "  and  I  shall  come 
back  wearing  a  sombrero  and  a  back- 
skin  skirt.7' 

"  Don't  joke,  Mildred,  don't  jokt 
It 's  highly  improper,  and  I  'm  sure 
you  are  joking,  for  you  could  never 
so  disgrace  your  family  as  to  wear 
leggings  and  a  buckskin  skirt." 

"  Dear  Aunt  Anna  has  such  an 
overpowering  sense  of  humour,"  said 
Mildred,  as  the  door  closed  upon 
their  worthy  relative. 

"  You  really  should  n't  laugh  at 
her,  Mildred,"  returned  Helen;  "  you 
know  she  has  such  a  good  heart,  and 
it  was  so  good  of  her  to  offer  to  come 
here  and  take  charge  of  the  house." 

"  I  'd  rather  it  were  you  than  I, 
7 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

though,"  replied  the  younger  girl. 
"I'd  sooner  take  my  chances  with 
catamounts  and  cowboys." 

More  than  either  her  father  or 
sister,  Mildred  Osborne  retained  her 
good  spirits  in  face  of  the  coming 
separation.  She  was  young,  she  had 
only  turned  twenty,  and  she  had 
youth's  belief  in  her  powers  of  re 
cuperation.  Not  for  one  moment  did 
she  doubt  what  would  be  the  out 
come  to  her  health.  She  saw  that  the 
western  trip  was  the  inevitable,  and, 
like  a  little  philosopher,  accepted  it. 

It  was  the  night  before  the  day  of 
their  departure  that  she  stood  in  the 
drawing-room,  looking  out  on  the 
dreary  September  streets.  It  was 
early  in  the  month,  but  a  cold  rain 
blew  gustily  against  the  pane.  Every 
now  and  then  a  bouncing  hansom 
went  by,  its  lamps  throwing  a  silvery 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

glow  on  the  wet  streets.  A  moment 
before,  Mildred  had  been  crying,  as 
she  and  Helen  talked  over  the  mor 
row's  parting.  But  now  her  cheery 
mood  had  re-asserted  itself,  and  she 
was  drumming  on  the  glass,  and 
humming  a  merry  tune  to  herself. 
Suddenly  she  ceased,  and  pressed  her 
face  against  the  pane  with  a  convul 
sive  motion.  "  Look  there ! "  she  cried, 
"  at  that  poor  child,  trudging  along 
with  a  bundle  through  this  miserably 
cold  rain." 

Helen  came  to  the  window.  "  Too 
bad,"  she  said  calmly. 

"  Oh,  why  will  people  send  their 
children  out  such  nights  as  this?  " 

"  Because  they  're  poor,  and  have 
to,  I  suppose." 

"  And  we  're  warm  and  comfortable 
here  in  the  house,  while  that  poor 
child  is  out  there  stumbling  through 

9 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

the  rain.    Look,  she  almost  fell.    I  'm 
going  out  to  her." 

"Mildred,  you  must  not;  you're 
not  well,  and  you  11  take  your  death 
of  cold." 

"  Oh,  Helen,  don't  stop  me.  I  must 
and  I  will.  It  is  n't  right.  I  Ve  never 
thought  about  it  at  all  until  to-night." 

As  she  talked,  the  girl  was  hastily 
throwing  a  cloak  about  her  shoulders. 
Against  her  sister's  continued  remon 
strances,  she  hurried  out  into  the 
street,  and  after  the  child.  The  little 
trudger  with  the  great  bundle  had 
gotten  some  distance  beyond  the 
house  when  Mildred  went  to  find 
her,  and  Helen,  shivering  in  the  door 
way,  saw  her  when  she  overtook, 
and  stooped  to  speak  to,  the  midget, 
and  then  watched  her  lift  the  child's 
bundle  and  turn  back  toward  the 
house. 

10 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Impulsive  girl,"  she  said  to  her 
self,  starting  down  the  steps;  but  just 
then  she  saw  a  hansom,  which  was 
about  passing,  stop,  and  a  gentleman 
get  out.  He  took  possession  of  the 
bundle,  placing  his  umbrella  at  the 
disposal  of  the  two.  Helen  gasped, 
"  Arthur  Heathcote!  — what  will  he 
think!  " 

It  did  n't  seem  to  matter  much  what 
Arthur  Heathcote  thought,  for  it  was 
a  very  merry  party  that  came  up  the 
steps  of  the  Osborne  house.  Mildred 
was  squeezing  the  hand  of  the  mite, 
and  laughing,  and  the  young  English 
man,  looking  decidedly  awkward  with 
his  bundle,  smiling  down  upon  them 
both.  Mediaeval  bravery  very  com 
monly  risked  death  for  a  woman's 
love,  but  it  remained  for  nineteenth- 
century  courage  to  risk  ridicule. 

"  Surely,  you  're  not  going  to  bring 
11 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

her  iii  here?  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Heathcote?" 

"  Why  not!  "  this  from  Mildred. 

"  Oh,  why,  she  's  so  draggly.  Just 
drop  the  bundle  right  here,  Mr. 
Heathcote." 

"  The  more  reason  for  bringing  her 
in.  Come  on,  little  girl." 

The  Osborne  house  was  old-fash 
ioned  enough  to  have  in  its  drawing- 
room  the  grate  of  an  earlier  period. 
Of  course,  in  winter,  there  was  fur 
nace  heat,  and  no  one  shivered  about 
the  inadequate  open  fire  as  they  had 
done  at  functions  of  fifty  years  before. 
But  then,  it  looked  cheerful,  and  it 
showed  up  the  mellow  tints  of  some 
famous  pictures,  a  Maclise  and  a  Corot 
among  them ;  and  so,  when  the  nights 
were  chill,  the  fire  was  duly  lit. 
Before  it  to-night  the  little  girl  was 
placed,  and  the  wet  shawl  taken  from 
12 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

her  head  and  put  out  to  dry.  Nina, 
the  maid,  held  the  garment  gingerly 
between  her  thumb  and  forefinger, 
and  sniffed  perceptibly,  but  Mildred 
beamed  on  the  child,  as  she  sat  blink 
ing  her  round  black  eyes  at  the  blaze. 
With  her  own  hands  she  brought  her 
hot  tea,  and  good  things  to  eat,  and 
the  child,  half -dazed  and  wondering, 
looked  up  into  the  girl's  face,  and 
took  them  all  in  silence,  save  when 
they  could  draw  from  her  lips  the 
reluctant  answer  to  some  question. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  's  real  clean!  ' 
asked  Helen,  timorously  approaching. 

"  Cleanliness  in  children  is  abnor 
mal,  and  should  be  discouraged,"  said 
Mildred,  shortly. 

"Oh!  ha,  ha,  ha!  good,  good!  r 
cried  Heathcote;  "  cleanliness  ab 
normal,  good!  but  of  course,  Miss 
Mildred,  you  don't  mean  it  I ' 

13 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

At  this  juncture  the  visitor,  feeling 
her  dignity  offended,  made  a  motion 
to  go.  Mildred  hastened  to  wrap 
her  up  warmly  and  to  slip  something 
shiny  in  her  hand.  The  little  hard 
fingers  closed  around  the  soft  ones, 
and  Mr.  Osborne's  young  daughter  re 
ceived  a  look  from  the  child's  grave 
eyes  that  brought  the  tears  into  her 
own,  and  made  her  stoop  and  kiss 
the  grimy  face.  When  she  looked  up 
again,  Heathcote  was  standing  at  the 
door,  hat  in  hand,  and  water-proof  on. 

"  I  'm  going  to  send  the  little  one 
home,  you  know,"  he  explained. 

"  Oh  —  "began  Helen. 

"  But  it  is  good  of  you,"  said  Mil 
dred,  softly,  and  he  bowed  himself 
out,  helping  the  child  down  the  steps 
as  if  she  had  been  a  princess. 

"  Mildred,  how  could  you?  "  cried 
Helen,  almost  tearfully. 

14 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"I  couldn't  if  he  hadn't  helped 
me,  dear.  He  didn't  do  it  because 
I  made  him,  but  because  it  was  in 
him.  Helen,  I  have  a  slight  cough, 
and  every  one  is  helping  and  shelter 
ing  me.  Father  is  leaving  his  busi 
ness  to  go  there  across  the  country 
with  me.  That  poor  little  thing, 
didn't  you  hear  her  cough?  And 
yet  she  is  out  in  the  rain  alone,  and 
carrying  her  great  burden ;  could  n't 
I  do  that  little  bit  for  her?  " 

"  What  a  queer  girl  you  are,  Mil 
dred!  " 

And  then  Heathcote  came  back. 
His  face  was  glowing  with  exercise, 
and  no  man  ever  looked  less  dis 
graced. 

"  I  put  her  in  a  cab,  you  know,  and 
told  the  cabby  where  to  go,"  he  said; 
"  some  beastly  little  street  down  here. 
Really,  you  ought  to  have  seen  the 

15 


THE     LOVE    OF     LAN  DRY 

little  beggar;  she  looked  as  pleased 
as  a  kitten,  and  hugged  her  bundle 
up  as  tight  —  "  and  there  was  a  light 
in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  down  upon 
Mildred,  such  as  they  put  in  the 
halo  of  a  saint,  "  Was  n't  it  jolly?  " 
he  added. 

"Jolly!  yes,"  said  Mildred,  with 
just  the  suspicion  of  a  shake  in  her 
voice ;  and  then  they  talked  of  other 
things,  of  commonplaces,  until  Helen, 
according  to  that  ancient,  and  not 
always  respected  custom,  rose  and 
excused  herself. 

There  was  a  long  silence  between 
them  when  they  were  alone.  The 
big  Englishman,  fair,  with  the  sug 
gestion  that  the  blood  was  always 
just  ready  to  come  swift  to  his  face, 
was  good  to  look  at,  and  the  girl, 
with  the  color  in  her  cheeks,  and 
her  thick,  brown  hair  half  high 

16 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

upon  her  head,  was  a  fitting  foil 
for  him. 

"  So  you  are  going  to-morrow,  Miss 
Mildred!  "  he  said. 

"Yes,  to-morrow;  but  you  know 
to-morrow  is  the  day  that  never 
comes." 

"  I  have  believed  that  fallacy  until 
now,"  he  said,  "but  now  I  find 
that  it  does  come,  and  crushingly 
soon." 

"  Yes,  I  go  to-morrow,"  she  added 
aimlessly;  "it's  going  to  be  a  long 
journey,  isn't  it?" 

"  I  wish  I  might  take  it  for  you." 

"  You  are  good;  you  have  been  so 
good  to  me  to-night,  and  I  thank 
you." 

"  Please  don't  thank  me.     I  wish  I 

might  go  on  being  good  to  you  for 

a  thousand  years,  even  if  I  had  no 

other  reward  than  hope.     Miss  Mil- 

2  17 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

dred,  I  don't  want  to  go  on  boring 
you,  but  you  know,  you  know,  don't 
you?  " 

'•  I  know,  of  course  I  do,  Arthur, 
dear  Arthur;  but  can't  you  under 
stand?  It's  so  hard  for  me  to  ex 
plain  it  to-night." 

"  I  'm  a  brute  for  making  you  think 
of  it,  instead  of  trying  to  make  this 
last  night  of  yours  at  home  pleasant. 
What  a  miserable  blunderer  and  brute 
lam!" 

"  No,  no,  it  is  I  who  am  the  brute, 
who  cannot  feel  —  I  —  " 

"I  wish  Heaven  would  send  me 
the  man  who  would  say  so.  You 
can  feel,  you  do  feel,  only  I  am  not 
the  man.  Well,  let  me  see;  this  is 
the  fifth  i  no '  I  have  heard  from  you 
since  April.  Very  well,  no  l  no  '  that 
you  say  shall  be  final  until  some  other 
claims  you.  And  now,  I  must  not 

18 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

keep  you  up.     I  shall  not  see  you 
to-morrow." 

His  tone  was  cheery,  but  his  face 
was  pale,  though  the  light  that  was 
in  his  eyes  when  he  looked  at  her 
had  not  died  out  as  he  left  her.  She 
sank  down,  crying  softly,  "  He  is  so 
good,  so  honest,  why  cannot  I  love 
him! " 


19 


CHAPTER   SECOND 

THE  rain  was  over,  and  the  sun, 
come  from  his  sulking  tent, 
looked  bravely  on  the  world  again. 
It  was  the  morning  of  Mildred's  de 
parture.  Heathcote  had  sent  flowers, 
and  Mrs.  Annesley  had  already  come 
and  begun  her  matronly  duties  over 
John  Osborne's  house.  She  was  very 
busy  indeed,  much  more  busy  than 
circumstances  at  all  demanded.  But 
she  felt  that  nervous  bustle  would 
anyway  show  the  importance  of  the 
position  she  held. 

"  It 's  really  awful,  John,  for  me  to 
have  to  leave  my  dear  home  and  come 
here,  but  I  knew  under  just  what  an 
affliction  you  and  the  dear  girls  were 

20 


THE     LOVE     OF     LAN DRY 

labouring,  and  so  I  determined  to 
make  the  sacrifice.  John,  do  be 
careful  of  Mildred;  you  know  how 
her  poor  dear  mother  went  off." 

She  applied  her  handkerchief  ten 
derly  to  her  eyes,  and  shook  with 
ostensible  sobs.  She  had  helped 
worry  her  sister  to  death. 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  come 
here,  Anna,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  "  and 
I  know  how  you  will  miss  the  com 
forts  of  your  own  home."  His  house 
was  twice  as  large  and  a  good  deal 
more  home-like. 

"  Of  course,  you  know,  John,  it 's 
been  a  dear  house  to  me  ever  since 
Annesley  died,  and  you  know  how 
attached  I  am  to  it,  and  how  hard 
it  is  for  me  to  leave  it." 

When  she  wasn't  at  Lenox  or  at 
Newport,  she  was  abroad. 

"I  know  all,    Anna,  I  know  all, 

21 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

and  your  kindness  shall  never  be 
forgotten." 

"  Oh,  well,  for  myself,  I  shall  be 
all  fears  and  anxiety  for  the  dear 
child.  But  of  course,  on  Helen's 
account,  it  wouldn't  do  to  let  my 
feelings  get  the  better  of  me,  and  so 
I  had  thought  that  perhaps  this  win 
ter,  not  too  soon,  you  know,  but  if  we 
have  good  news  of  our  dear  Mildred, 
my  grief  might  make  the  concession 
of  a  few  receptions  and  a  ball  or 
two." 

"That 's  right,  that 's  right." 

"  And  it  's  such  a  magnificent 
house  for  entertaining.  That  ball 
room  would  accommodate  an  army." 

"  Have  your  army,  Anna,  and  draw 
on  me  for  supplies." 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  generous  John. 
What  times  we  shall  have,  and  it 's 
all  so  necessary  for  Helen,  while  Mr. 

22 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Berkeley,  —  that  is,  while  matters 
are,  as  I  said  before,  in  statu  quo" 

"  Give  Helen  any  pleasures  she 
wants  to  keep  her  spirits  up,  —  balls, 
parties,  dances,  the  theatre." 

"  Glorious !  I  '11  do  it.  Oh,  could 
her  poor  mother  have  lived  to  see 
this  day !  And,  oh,  John,  do  be  care 
ful  of  Mildred  among  those  people 
out  there,  and  don't  let  her  put  on 
leggings  and  a  buckskin  skirt." 

John  Osborne  started  away.  He 
could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  a  short 
time  later  he  was  locked  securely  in 
his  library,  to  spend  the  hour  before 
train  time. 

After  leaving  him,  Mrs.  Annesley 
traversed  the  whole  servants'  depart 
ment,  awing  them  into  respect  for  her 
authority.  Then,  with  a  muttered 
"  Now  I  must  go  and  comfort  the 
girls,"  she  started  for  her  niece's 

23 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

room.  But  the  rustle  of  her  silken 
skirts  upstairs  was  a  herald  that 
preceded  her,  and  just  before  she 
reached  the  top,  a  door  banged  to. 
She  kept  her  way,  however,  right  on 
to  Helen's  room.  It  was  deserted. 
Then  she  went  to  Mildred's  room, 
and  looked  at  the  grim  panels  shut 
against  her. 

"  Poor  child,"  she  said,  "  I  know 
that  she  hates  so  to  leave  me  that 
the  sight  of  my  face  would  be  only 
a  grief  to  her.  I  won't  go  in;"  and 
Mrs.  Annesley  went  down  into  the 
drawing-room  to  spend  the  rest  of 
the  time  alone. 

The  girls  were  together  in  Mil 
dred's  room.  They  had  gone  there 
because  Helen  would  not  have  dared 
to  lock  her  door  upon  her  aunt. 
They  were  in  the  close  intimate  con 
verse  of  girls  about  to  part,  and  the 

24 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

elder  sister  was  shedding  real  tears, 
as  she  chided  the  younger  for  her 
apparent  heartlessness. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  care  for  me 
a  bit,  Mildred,  or  you  surely  would 
show  more  feeling  than  you  do  at 
leaving  me." 

"Dearie,"  said  Mildred,  "what's  the 
use  of  my  crying,  and  reddening  my 
eyes,  when  I  know  it  will  be  such 
a  short  time  until  we  're  laughing  at 
the  whole  thing  and  at  all  the  funny 
things  we  Ve  seen!  " 

"  But,  oh,  suppose  you  don't  come 
back?  " 

"But  I  am  coming  back.  Now, 
Nell,  don't  be  a  silly  goose;  did  I 
ever  say  I  was  going  to  do  a  thing 
that  I  didn't  do?" 

Mildred  was  bearing  up  bravely, 
poor  little  girl,  though  there  were 
dark  rings  about  her  eyes,  and  she 

25 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

had  to  keep  swallowing.  Fortu 
nately  a  new  matter  of  interest  took 
hold  of  her  sister's  mind,  and  she 
asked  suddenly,  "  Arthur  Heathcote, 
did  he  propose  again? '; 

Instantly  Mildred's  whole  attitude 
changed.  She  became  at  once  defi 
ant,  and  yet  with  something  of  sor 
row  in  her  manner.  The  defiance 
was  external,  the  sorrow  personal. 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

"  And  you?  " 

"  I  gave  him  the  same  answer,  the 
only  one  I  can  ever  give  him." 

"  Oh,  Mildred  - 

"  Please  don't  let  's  talk  of  it, 
Helen,  he  's  such  a  good  fellow." 

"  And  such  a  chance." 

"  I  'm  looking  for  love,  not  chance. 
Arthur  Heathcote  demands  love,  and 
I  cannot  give  it  to  him.  Such  men 
as  Mr.  Berkeley  make  a  chance.  Oh, 

26 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

forgive  me,  Helen,  you  know  I  did  n't 
mean  it,"  she  cried,  as  Helen  had 
recourse  to  her  rather  inadequate 
handkerchief  again.  "  I  didn't  mean 
what  I  said;  I  don't  know  what 
I  'm  saying.  Arthur  Heathcote  is 
so  good  I  came  near  to  surrendering 
last  night.  But  I  know  I  couldn't 
give  him  what  he  wants,  what  he 
deserves,  and  I  wouldn't  give  him 
less." 

"  You  can  try." 

"  No,"  said  the  girl,  dreamily,  "  there 
is  something  else  for  me.  I  have 
known  it  ever  since  men  talked  to 
me  of  love.  Some  one,  some  prince, 
maybe,"  she  added,  laughing,  "will 
come  to  claim  me,  and  I  have  known 
just  how  I  shall  feel  when  he  takes 
me  by  the  hand." 

So  many  women  believe  this.  It 
is  true  of  so  few. 

27 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  That  all  comes  of  reading  your 
silly  stories,  Mildred." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  goose,"  and  Mildred 
threw  her  arms  about  her  sister's 
neck,  "it  all  comes  of  reading  my 
silly  heart." 

"  And  suppose  Prince  Charming 
does  not  appear?  " 

"  Then  I  shall  marry  Arthur,  if  he 
is  still  unwed." 

"  But  what  silly  talk  this  is  for  us, 
within  an  hour  of  parting." 

"  Helen,"  said  Mildred,  gravely, 
"this  is  just  the  kind  of  talking  I 
want  to  do,  and  if  you  touch  that 
handkerchief  again,  I  '11  strangle  you 
with  smelling-salts." 

The  morning  was  bringing  out  its 
most  vivid  contrast  to  the  night's 
dreariness  as  they  rolled  away  to 
the  station.  Helen  was  subdued, 
but  Mildred  chattered  like  a  mag- 
28 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

pie,  and  her  aunt  kept  pace  with 
her. 

"  Remember  all  my  warnings,"  said 
the  latter,  as  they  neared  their  desti 
nation. 

"  Yes,  auntie,  dear,  I  'm  to  flirt  with 
the  cowboys,  if  they  're  not  a  thing 
of  the  past,  and  I  suppose  they  are, 
in  this  degenerate  age  of  the  world, 
when  everything  romantic  is  past.7' 

"  Mildred,  don't  lay  any  such  thing 
at  my  door.  I  said  nothing  of  the 
kind." 

"  And  I  'm  to  bring  you  a  little 
papoose  to  raise." 

"John,  listen  to  the  girl.  A  pa 
poose  !  why,  I  would  n't  have  such  a 
thing." 

"  Never  mind,  Aunt  Anna,  you  're 
right.  A  papoose  would  be  trouble 
some.  I'll  bring  you  a  great  big 
Indian." 

29 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Mrs.  Annesley  collapsed  just  as 
they  reached  the  Grand  Central  Sta 
tion.  She  revived  as  the  carriage 
drew  up,  and  they  found  Arthur 
Heathcote  there  to  help  them  out. 

The  others  went  on  up  to  the  train, 
but  he  held  Mildred  back  a  pace. 

"I  couldn't  help  coming,"  he  said; 
"you  know  I  didn't  intend  to.  But 
— but  you  '11  forgive  me,  won't  you! " 

"  Kindness  is  always  easy  to  for 
give;  and,  oh!  thank  you  for  your 
flowers." 

"  I  am  glad  if  they  gave  you  pleas 
ure,  but  I  shouldn't  have  come, 
should  I!" 

"  Do  you  feel  very  guilty!  "  she 
asked,  playfully. 

"  I  am  simply  bowed  with  my  trans 
gression,  you  know." 

"  I  shall  not  scold  you,  then,  since 
you  are  sufficiently  contrite." 

30 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

"  Then  I  shall  always  be  contrite 
before  you." 

"  Really,  you  are  like  a  Methodist, 
who  is  always  possessed  of  l  a  lowly 
and  a  contrite  heart.7  But  then, 
when  a  man  has  no  weapon  against 
a  woman,  he  uses  his  shield  of 
contrition." 

"  I  hope,  at  least,  this  time,  it  has 
turned  aside  your  anger."  They 
were  approaching  the  others  on  the 
platform  then.  "  Where  shall  you 
stop!  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"Oh,  we're  going  out  on  a  ranch 
belonging  to  one  of  father's  friends, 
or  a  company  he  knows,  or  some 
thing  like  that.  It  is  situated  some 
where  between  Denver  and  the  setting 


sun." 


"Grood-bye,"  he  said  gently;  "I 
know  this  must  be  a  family  party, 
and  I  cannot  claim  the  pleasure  of 

31 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

admittance.  Good-bye ;  I  must  speak 
to  your  father." 

He  went  over  and  shook  Os- 
borne's  hand,  and  then  turned  away 
down  the  platform,  looking  back 
every  moment  with  a  wistful  ex 
pression  on  his  face  until  he  had 
turned  the  corner  and  was  out  of 
sight. 

And  then  they  went  into  the  luxu 
rious  coach,  Helen  as  tearful  as  Nina, 
the  maid  and  Mildred  all  gayety. 
Mrs.  Annesley's  handkerchief  was  in 
constant  use,  and  John  Osborne  was 
very  grave.  He  was  taking  his  child 
away  from  her  sister,  perhaps  never 
to  see  her  again.  Then  a  polite  por 
ter  said,  "  All  off,  please.7' 

Mrs.  Annesley  kissed  her  niece 
quickly  on  the  nose  and  hurried  to 
the  door.  But  Helen  held  her  sister 
in  one  long  embrace. 

32 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

"  Oh,  Mildred !  "  was  all  she  could 
say. 

And  "  Oh,  Helen !  "  was  the  chok 
ing  reply ;  and  then  the  younger  girl 
brightened  up  as  her  sister  left  the 
car,  and  waved  a  frantic  farewell  to 
her.  Then  the  blue-coated  official 
waved  his  arms,  and  the  long  train 
pulled  out.  Mildred  was  alone  in  the 
state-room  with  her  father.  As  they 
passed  from  the  sight  of  those  on  the 
platform,  she  threw  herself  on  his 
breast,  crying,  "  Oh,  father,  father!  " 
and  burst  into  tears. 


33 


CHAPTER  THIRD 

MR.  OSBORNE  had  felt  a  sort 
of  grieved  surprise  at  his  daugh 
ter 's  gayety  in  the  face  of  depart 
ure  from  the  ties  she  should  have 
held  sacred.  But  he  was  more  terri 
bly  shocked  at  her  utter  breakdown. 
When  he  saw  that  instead  of  being 
heartless,  she  had  really  been  brave 
for  her  sister's  sake,  he  felt  a  help 
less  resentment  at  his  own  stupid 
ity  that  could  wrong  her,  even  in 
thought.  He  hastened  to  try  to 
quiet  the  girl's  sorrow,  and  when 
Mildred  saw  that  her  tears  disturbed 
her  father,  she  dried  her  eyes,  and 
smiling  like  an  April  day,  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  what  a  baby  I  am !  but  it  was 

34 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

hard,  was  n't  it,  papa,  leaving  Helen, 
and  everything  I  love  1 ' 

"It  was  hard,  and  you  are  a  brave 
little  girl,  that's  what  you  are,  and 
I  'm  an  old  fool  not  to  have  seen  it." 

"  You  must  n't  call  yourself  a  fool, 
papa;  it  isn't  at  all  respectful,  and 
then,  there  isn't  a  shade  of  reason 
for  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is.  Do  you  know — " 
he  began. 

But  she  put  her  hand  over  his 
mouth. 

"Yes,  I  know;  you  thought  I  was 
heartless  and  unfeeling,  because  I 
didn't  seem  to  care  about  leaving, 
and  that 's  just  what  I  wanted  you 
to  think  then.  I  wanted  them  all  to 
think  it.  So  I  'm  not  so  bad  at  act 
ing,  you  see." 

Her  cheeriness  warmed  her  father's 
heart,  and  restored  his  self-respect. 

35 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

He  laughed  and  chatted  with  his 
daughter  in  his  old  accustomed  way, 
and  she  responded  in  such  a  merry 
mood  that  he  did  not  note  the 
tremour  in  her  voice,  nor  see  the 
cloud  that  now  and  then  rested  on 
her  brow. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  was  saying, 
"I'm  glad  I  had  the  chance  to  come 
with  you,  Mildred.  I  feel  already 
like  a  new  man.  I  suppose  I  should 
have  stayed  on  there,  just  working, 
with  my  little  summer  jaunts  for 
intermission,  until  I  should  have 
dropped  in  harness.  It 's  strange  to 
me  how  little  enjoyment  the  rich 
really  get  out  of  their  wealth.  Talk 
about  the  slavery  of  the  poor !  It  ?s 
the  rich  who  are  really  to  be  pitied,  - 
those  people  with  enjoyment  in  their 
grasp,  and  yet  with  golden  scales 
upon  their  eyes  that  keep  them  from 

36 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

seeing  and  grasping  their  opportuni 
ties.  I  wish  Helen  could  be  here.7' 

Just  then  the  porter  came  in  to 
see  if  anything  was  needed.  At  least 
that  was  ostensibly  what  he  came 
for.  In  reality,  he  came  because  he 
needed  or  thought  he  needed  some 
thing.  After  he  had  been  dismissed, 
Mildred  asked,  "  But,  papa,  don't  you 
think  that  even  the  life  the  wealthy 
drudge  leads  is  better  than  the  exist 
ence  dragged  out  by  that  poor  col 
oured  man  who  just  came  in  here, 
trying  to  smile  a  little  fee  out  of  our 
pockets  I  " 

"  Poor  coloured  man !  Why,  Mil 
dred,  that  man  gets  more  out  of  life 
than  I  do.  He  has  a  greater  capacity 
for  enjoyment,  with  the  paradox  that 
less  satisfies  it.  You  think  it  humili 
ates  him  to  take  a  tip?  Not  in  the 
least.  That 's  his  business.  He  cour- 

37 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

teously  fleeces  us,  and  then  laughs 
about  it,  no  doubt.  Ha,  ha!  " 

"  You  're  becoming  quite  a  cynic; 
I'm  ashamed  of  you." 

"  Well,  I  guess  an  old  codger  who 
has  dropped  business  and  gone  racing 
across  the  continent  with  the  pret 
tiest  little  malingerer  in  the  world 
can  afford  to  be  a  bit  cynical,  even 
contemptuous,  in  his  attitude  towards 
the  rest  of  the  world." 

Mildred  cuddled  up  close  to  her 
father,  and  so  they  rattled  on. 

The  train  bounded  over  the  rails 
like  a  thing  of  life.  It  sped  over 
bridges  that  spanned  great  rivers, 
through  cities,  towns,  and  hamlets, 
pausing  only  at  long  intervals  to  take 
breath,  as  if  weary  of  its  terrific  race. 
Then  it  stops  for  a  little  while  at  a 
great  city  on  an  inland  sea.  It  is 
night  when  they  reach  there,  and 

38 


THE     LOVE     OF     LAN  DRY 

the  shimmer  of  the  water  and  the 
lights  of  the  streets  make  Mildred 
sad  for  a  space,  for  her  mind  goes 
back  to  the  bay  and  the  rivers  at 
home,  and  she  thinks  of  Helen  alone 
there,  with  just  the  servants  and 
Aunt  Annesley.  Then  the  porter 
comes  again,  and  she  goes  to  bed  to 
bathe  the  pillow  with  tears  of  home 
sickness  and  yearning,  while  her 
father  goes  into  the  smoking-room 
to  brood  over  his  cigar.  What  a  pity 
it  is  that  women  cannot  smoke.  They 
would  weep  less.  The  puffs  that 
John  Osborne  took  on  his  cigar  that 
night  were  the  full  equivalent  of 
Mildred's  tears. 

With  all  the  faith  one  may  have  in 
one's  self,  with  all  the  strong  hope 
fulness  of  youth,  it  is  yet  a  terrible 
thing  to  be  forced  away  from  home, 
from  all  one  loves,  to  an  unknown, 

39 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

uncared-for  country,  there  to  fight, 
hand  to  hand  with  death,  an  un 
certain  fight.  There  is  none  of  the 
rush  and  clamour  of  battle  that 
keeps  up  the  soldier's  courage.  There 
is  no  clang  of  the  instruments  of  war. 
The  panting  warrior  hears  no  loud 
huzzas,  and  yet  the  deadly  combat 
goes  on;  in  the  still  night,  when  all 
the  world's  asleep,  in  the  gray  day, 
in  the  pale  morning,  it  goes  on,  and 
no  one  knows  it  save  himself  and 
death.  Then  if  he  go  down,  he 
knows  no  hero's  honors;  if  he  win, 
he  has  no  special  praise.  And  yet, 
it  is  a  terrible  lone,  still  fight. 

In  the  morning  both  Mildred  and 
her  father  were  in  their  accustomed 
good  spirits.  Their  minds  had  ad 
justed  themselves  to  the  changed 
situation,  and  Nature,  as  if  reward 
ing  them  for  their  good  behaviour, 

40 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

smiled  upon  them.  It  was  a  glorious 
day.  Great  masses  of  white  clouds 
were  piled  high  in  the  heavens  like 
fairy  mountains,  and  between  them 
stretched  long  rifts  of  blue  like  in 
tervening  streams.  They  were  pass 
ing  through  a  green  rolling  land, 
touched  not  yet  with  the  yellow 
hand  of  decay,  although  it  was  Sep 
tember.  Much  of  the  land  was  in 
pasture,  and  Mildred  laughed  as  she 
watched  the  horses  gallop  wildly 
away  from  the  fences  as  the  train 
flew  by,  or  the  placid  cows  regard 
ing  the  express  with  undisturbed 
equanimity. 

So  the  day  passed,  and  they  went 
through  another  great  city  on  a  lake, 
and  then  on  again,  the  country  be 
coming  flatter  and  browner  as  they 
proceeded.  The  rolling  green  land 
was  succeeded  by  perfect  seas  of 

41 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

yellow  corn.  Corn  here,  there,  and 
everywhere.  It  seemed  that  all  the 
world  had  been  drowned  beneath  its 
moving  billows.  Look  to  either  side 
she  would,  the  girl  saw  nothing  but 
the  one  grain,  stretching  for  miles 
along  the  track  and  on  over  to  the 
horizon. 

"  What  —  what  do  they  do  with  so 
much  corn,  papa?  "  she  asked. 

"  They  bring  down  prices  with  so 
much  corn,"  he  answered  grimly. 

"Yes,  but  what  else  do  they  do 
with  it?  Surely  it  has  some  other 
use  besides  that?  " 

"  It  has.  They  eat  it,  they  feed  it 
to  their  stock,  they  mill  it,  and  they 
corner  it." 

"  I  Ve  heard  of  corners  in  wheat, 
but- 

"My  dear,  there  can  be  a  corner 
in  anything  that  one  man  has  and 

42 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

another  man  wants.  A  corner  is  just 
the  repetition  of  the  act  of  the  dog  in 
the  manger  in  the  fable,  with  the  ex 
ception  that  the  ox  is  left  the  alter 
native  of  paying  a  high  price  to  the 
dog  or  going  without.  Well,  even  an 
option  is  a  good  thing, ' '  and  the  old 
man  chuckled  thoughtfully. 

"Papa,  were  you  ever  in  a  corner! " 

"Which  side,  the  cornerer  or  the 
cornered?  ' 

"  The  cornerer. " 

Mr.    Osborne    smiled    again,    and 
patted  the  girl's  head. 

"Well,  now,  if  this  were  the  In 
quisition,  and  I  had  to  answer  that 
question  or  go  to  the  rack,  I  should 
be  in  a  very  unpleasant  situation ;  ' 
and  still  laughing,  he  rose  and  made 
his  way  to  that  refuge  of  the  way 
faring  man  —  the  smoking-room. 

"I  wonder  if  papa  ever  cornered 

43 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

anybody,"  mused  Mildred;  but  find 
ing  no  answer  to  the  question  in  the 
fields  that  had  made  it  possible,  she 
turned  her  mind  to  other  things.  It 
did  not  take  long  for  the  other  things 
to  drive  all  thoughts  of  corn  and  cor 
ners  out  of  her  head,  for  those  other 
things  proved  to  be  prairie-dogs,  sit 
ting  demurely  by  their  houses  with 
their  hands  up,  like  devout  little  boys 
in  prayer.  A  sudden  peal  at  the  bell, 
so  decided,  so  hurried,  that  it  brought 
the  porter  hastening  to  Mildred  as  if 
she  were  on  fire,  and  he  had  to  hurry 
to  put  her  out,  evinced  her  interest. 

"What  is  it,  miss?'  asked  the 
startled  servant. 

"  Tell  my  father  to  come  here 
quickly." 

"  Can  I  help  you?  ' '  he  was  sure 
something  was  the  matter. 

"  No,  110;  just  hurry,  that 's  all." 

44 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

If  that  porter  had  been  a  blackbird 
instead  of  a  black  man,  he  would 
have  flown,  so  great  was  his  excite 
ment.  As  it  was,  he  came  as  near 
accomplishing  that  impossible  feat 
as  Nature,  a  narrow  aisle,  and  a  roll 
ing  car  would  allow  him.  He  had  to 
go  the  length  of  another  car  before 
he  found  Mr.  Osborne,  but  he  seemed 
to  achieve  the  distance  in  an  incred 
ibly  short  time.  Then  he  came,  guid 
ing  back  the  old  gentleman,  who  was 
white  to  the  lips. 

Mildred  stood  up  as  he  approached. 

"What  is  it? "  he  asked  in  an  anx 
ious  tone. 

"  Didn't  you  see  them?  "  and  just 
then  they  passed  another  dog-town, 
and  she  cried,  "  There  they  are ! 
There  they  are!  Oh,  papa,  look  at 
them!  " 

Mr.  Osborne  saw  what  the  excite- 

45 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

ment  was  about  and  collapsed  limply 
into  his  seat. 

"Mildred,  Mildred,"  he  said,  "  is 
this  what  you  have  called  me  for! 
Where,  oh,  where,  is  your  reserve, 
the  fruit  of  a  hundred  drawing- 
rooms?  What  would  your  Aunt 
Anna  say! "  and  he  bent  into  a  very 
undignified  curve. 

"I  don't  care/7  Mildred  pouted; 
"  they  are  just  as  cute  as  they  can 
be." 

"Why,  you  nearly  startled  that 
porter  out  of  his  wits.  He  didn't 
say  it,  but  he  looked  as  if  he  thought 
you  might  be  in  a  fit." 

And,  indeed,  the  coloured  man  was 
still  staring  at  them  with  wide,  white 
eyes,  and  when  he  saw  them  burst 
anew  into  laughter,  he  left  the  door 
and  went  back  to  his  place,  in  dis 
gust  no  doubt  with  the  thought  in 

46 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

his  mind  that  here  was  another  in 
stance  of  white  people  trampling  on, 
and  making  a  fool  of,  the  black  man. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  frighten  him," 
said  Mildred.  "  But  it  was  such  a 
new  sight  to  me!  I'll  give  him  an 
extra  tip  before  we  leave." 

"  You  should  make  him  pay  you 
for  turning  him  so  near  white,  even 
for  such  a  short  space  of  time." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  I  Ve  en 
joyed  half  so  much  as  those  dear 
little  dogs.  They  are  such  plump, 
roly-poly  little  things.  Do  you  know, 
papa,  they  remind  me  of  little  Chi 
nese  babies! " 

"  Have  mercy  on  the  dogs,  Mil 
dred,  do." 

"I  love  them." 

"  That  proves  you  a  tenderfoot. 
I  don't  believe  they  are  held  in  such 
reverence  by  the  people  of  the  West, 

47 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

especially  those  whose  business  takes 
them  riding  over  the  prairie." 

They  were  nearing  Denver,  and  it 
was  afternoon. 

"  There 's  our  first  glimpse  of 
Pike's  Peak/'  said  Osborne. 

"  Where?  Oh,  yes.  But  look, 
papa,  here's  another  dog-town." 

It  was  dusk  when  they  rolled  into 
Denver,  where  they  were  to  stop  for 
a  day. 

"  This  is  Denver,  Denver,  and  I  am 
West,"  she  said  breathlessly. 

"  You  are  West,  yes,  you  are  West, 
little  girl." 

As  they  alighted  at  the  hotel  door, 
she  looked  round  her  once  more  at 
the  busy  streets,  the  hurrying  people, 
and  murmured  as  if  in  a  dream, 
"  Denver." 

Yes,  Denver,  the  city  where  so 
many  hopes  were  blighted,  where 

48 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

so  many  dreams  came  true,  where 
so  many  fortunes  went  up  and  so 
many  lives  went  down.  Denver,  over 
which  Nature  broods  with  mystic 
calm,  and  through  which  humanity 
struggles  with  hot,  strenuous  life. 


49 


CHAPTER  FOUKTH 

THE  ranch  to  which  they  were 
destined  lay  about  one  hundred 
miles  south  and  west  of  Denver,  and 
after  a  day's  rest  they  set  out  there 
for.  The  train  took  them  within 
eight  miles  of  the  place,  and  at  the 
station  they  were  to  take  wagon  to 
the  end  of  their  journey. 

Mildred  declared  herself  better  al 
ready.  The  sights  were  all  so  new 
to  her, — the  rolling,  illimitable  plains, 
then  the  great  bleak  mountains,  stand 
ing  up  like  hoary  sentinels  guarding 
the  land. 

"  It 's  magnificent !  "  she  breathed; 
"this  is  geography  realised!  The 
Rockies ! " 

50 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Wait  until  you  get  to  going  over 
those  roads  in  a  wagon-team,  though." 

"Don't  pour  cold  water  now,  papa; 
let  me  go  on  enjoying  when  I  may, 
so  that  I  shall  have  something  to  re 
member  when  I  may  not.'7 

"  Go  on,  child,  and  store  up  nu 
merous  memories,  for  you  '11  need 
them,"  said  her  father,  banteringly. 

Every  turn  of  the  train  disclosed 
new  beauties  to  the  girl's  wondering 
eyes.  Before  her  lay  the  panorama 
of  mountain  and  cloud.  Time  and 
time  again  she  found  herself  puzzled 
to  tell  which  was  vapour  and  which 
was  rock.  First,  the  brown  foot 
hills  shrouded  in  a  purple  haze,  and 
behind  them,  range  after  range  ris 
ing  in  snow-garmented  grandeur. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  station, 
a  young  man  came  forward  to  meet 
them.  His  dress  was  in  no  way  re- 

51 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

markable, — not  at  all  in  the  extrava 
gant  style  which  the  illustrators  of 
fiction  had  made  familiar  to  Mil 
dred's  eyes,  and  she  had  time  to 
notice  that  he  had  a  pleasing  face, 
although  it  was  much  browned,  and 
a  good  gray  eye,  before  he  said,  - 

"  This  is  Mr.  Osborne!  " 

"  That 's  my  name,  sir.  I  suppose 
you  are  Hendrickson?  " 

"  No,  Mr.  Hendrickson  was  unable 
to  come,  and  so  sent  me  in  his  place. 
Our  buck-board  is  just  here  at  the 
end  of  the  platform.'7 

"  Unable  to  come,"  mused  Mildred, 
mentally.  "Hum,  that  is  not  dialect, 
and  here  's  Aunt  Annesley's  cowboy 
at  last.  I  wonder  where  his  pistols 


are.'! 


She  laughed  to  herself  as  she 
thought  of  her  aunt  looking  askance 
at  the  young  man  who  was  with 

52 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

them.  She  turned  to  look  at  him, 
and  his  eyes  were  fastened  on  her 
face. 

"Impertinence,"  thought  Mildred; 
he'd  better  attend  to  his  own  busi 
ness.  I  am  right,  though;  he  has 
got  good  eyes,  such  a  soft  gray." 

"Here  we  are,"  said  the  young 
man  quickly,  as  they  approached  the 
vehicle,  a  large,  easy,  two-seated 
affair,  to  which  two  wiry  horses 
were  harnessed. 

He  offered  Mildred  his  hand,  but 
she  gave  her  father  her  arm,  and 
stepped  in.  Mr.  Osborne  and  the 
young  man  followed.  The  latter 
clucked  to  the  horses,  and  they 
trotted  away.  The  road  lay  for 
awhile  between  widely  scattered 
houses  and  shacks,  then  it  broke 
away  into  the  open  country,  where 
the  bridges  across  the  ditches  were 

53 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

precarious,  and  the  sight  of  a  human 
being  a  novel  thing. 

It  was  a  silent  party,  for  a  strange 
embarrassment  had  fallen  on  the 
girl,  and  she  replied  to  her  father's 
bantering  advances  with  none  of  her 
pretty  retorts  and  tricks.  Finally, 
Mr.  Osborne  turned  to  the  driver 
and  said,  — 

"  You  Ve  quite  a  place  out  here, 
my  friend  Hopkins  tells  me." 

"  Pretty  fair,  yes." 

"  I  Ve  known  Hopkins  for  a  great 
many  years,  even  before  he  had  any 
interests  at  all  in  the  West." 

"Yes." 

"  I  suppose  he  seldom  visits  you! " 

"Very  seldom." 

"Whenever  he  has  spoken  of  his 
place  here,  he  has  always  said  that 
this  man  Hendrickson  filled  the  bill 
completely." 

54 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Yes,  Hendrickson  is  a  good  man." 

"I  suppose  you  have  been  in  his 
employ  for  some  time?" 

Just  the  ghost  of  a  smile  crossed 
the  young  man's  brow,  as  he  an 
swered,  "Yes,  I've  been  here  for 
some  little  while." 

"  What  do  you  do,  that  is,  mostly? " 
Mildred  was  nudging  her  father,  but 
he  was  determined  to  be  friendly. 

"  Oh,  almost  anything.  I  just 
knock"  around  generally." 

"  Oh." 

After  this  unproductive  attempt  at 
conversation,  Mr.  Osborne  lapsed  into 
silence.  Surely,  if  the  rest  of  the 
people  on  the  ranch  were  no  more 
loquacious,  they  would  have  a  dull 
time  of  it.  Well,  Mildred  had  come 
out  for  climate,  not  for  conversation. 

The  young  lady  herself  kept  her 
eyes  straight  before  her.  She  did 

55 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

not  like  the  taciturnity  of  their 
driver  in  face  of  her  father's  genial 
overtures.  "  It  is  all  of  a  piece  with 
the  mistaken  idea  of  democracy  and 
equality  in  the  West,"  she  thought. 
"  The  idea  has  run  wild.  Indepen 
dence  has  been  superseded  by  inso 
lence,  and  every  labourer  is  so  afraid 
of  being  put  upon  that  his  attitude  is 
one  of  aggression  or  defiance  toward 
his  superiors."  And  she  grew  in 
wardly  angry  as  she  felt  that  the 
young  man  was  looking  at  her  out  of 
the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"  That  's  just  the  trouble,"  her 
thoughts  went  on;  "he  has  been 
partly  educated,  and  that 's  what 
keeps  him  from  knowing  his  place. 
Now,  in  England,  it  would  be  differ 
ent  ;  a  servant  would  be  respectful,  at 
least.  Even  Nina  is  better.  Well, 
we  are  different  in  the  East." 

56 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  I  think  you  '11  like  it  out  here/' 
said  the  driver,  "  after  you  get  used 
to  the  silence;  "  and  she  relented  a 
little  towards  him.  Perhaps  he  was 
only  embarrassed,  after  all.  Of  course 
there  were  not  many  modest  men; 
she  had  never  seen  one,  but  then, 
she  had  heard  that  there  were  such 
things. 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  like  it,"  said  her 
father.  "  I  need  a  little  silence  after 
the  bustle  and  buzz  of  New  York." 

"  I  should  think  you  would." 

With  this  little  talk,  he  drew  up 
at  the  entrance  of  an  enclosure,  and 
leaping  down,  flung  open  a  long 
barred  gate.  Through  this  the  horses 
walked,  and  then  waited  until  he 
closed  it,  when  they  resumed  their 
journey  up  a  road  the  counterpart 
of  the  former  one,  save  that  it  lay 
through  fenced  ground.  They  must 

57 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

have  proceeded  about  a  mile  when 
they  came  to  a  broad,  low  house. 
There  was  the  barking  of  dogs  within 
as  the  wagon  stopped,  and  a  big  man, 
who  would  have  been  fair  but  for  the 
sun's  care,  came  running  out  to  meet 
them.  He  was  followed  by  a  plump 
little  woman. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Osborne! " 
said  the  man. 

"  This  is  Hendrickson,"  said  the 
driver  as  they  alighted. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Hendrick 
son?"  said  Mr.  Osborne;  "and  this  is 
my  daughter,  Miss  Mildred  Osborne. 
I  have  heard  much  of  you  from  my 
friend  Hopkins." 

"  We  think  a  great  deal  of  Mr. 
Hopkins  out  here,  although  we  don't 
often  see  him.  This  is  my  wife,"  he 
added,  as  they  neared  the  smiling 
little  woman. 

58 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Mr.  Osborne  bowed,  and  Mildred 
shook  hands  with  her.  She  felt  glad 
to  see  the  face  of  another  woman  be 
sides  the  silent  maid.  "  Come  right 
in."  Then  Hendrickson  went  on 
laughingly,  — 

"  I  hope  you  have  n't  had  any 
trouble  with  Laiidry  on  the  road." 

"  With  Landry?  "  said  Mr.  Osborne 
questioningly. 

"Oh,  yes;  I  don't  reckon  he's  in 
troduced  himself  to  you.  That 's  just 
like  him,  to  drive  eight  miles  with 
people,  and  never  say  who  he  is  — 
Landry." 

Mildred  turned  in  time  to  see  the 
driver,  who  was  about  going  off  with 
the  team,  flush  beneath  his  tan. 
"  Will  he  dare  to  introduce  him  I 
That's  what  he 's 'going  to  do,"  she 
thought.  "  Well,  this  is  too  much  of 
Western  democracy." 

59 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

The  young  fellow  had  left  his 
charges  and  strolled  up,  not  without 
a  certain  grace  in  his  bearing. 

"  This  is  our  Mr.  Landry,  Mr.  and 
Miss  Osborne." 

Mildred's  bow  was  very  slight. 

"  I  shall  give  him  special  charge  of 
your  pleasure  and  comfort.  He 's 
better  able  to  take  care  of  you  than 
I  am."  So  they  went  into  the  house, 
and  Landry  went  about  his  work. 

The  plump  little  woman  took 
charge  of  Mildred  and  showed  her 
to  their  rooms.  There  were  four  for 
her  father,  herself,  and  Nina,  plainly 
furnished,  but  comfortable. 

"Mr.  Landry,"  mused  the  girl,  as 
her  maid  was  making  her  comfort 
able;  "and  he  is  to  provide  for  our 
pleasure.  Nina  shall  be  my  proxy 
there.  Even  on  a  ranch  one  must 
draw  the  line  somewhere." 

60 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Jack,  one  of  the  men,  was  leading 
the  horses  away  from  the  wagon, 
when  he  turned  to  Landry  and  said, 
"  Great  gal,  I  tell  you.  What  a 
face  to  —  " 

"What!" 

Jack  stopped. 

"If  ever  I  hear  you  speak  that  way 
of  that  young  lady  again  1 11  break 
every  bone  in  your  body,"  said  the 
young  man,  calmly. 


61 


CHAPTER  FIFTH 

IF  Mildred  had  expected  the  man 
Landry  to  force  his  attentions 
upon  her,  she  was  greatly  mistaken. 
He  gave  her  no  occasion  whatever 
to  offer  Nina's  services  as  proxy. 
Hendrickson  had  fulfilled  his  prom 
ise,  and  left  them  much  to  the  young 
ranchman's  care.  While,  indeed,  he 
was  all  that  courtesy  or  hospitality 
could  demand,  all  his  offers  of  ser 
vice  were  made  to  Mr.  Osborne,  and 
Mildred's  presence  or  participation 
in  the  pleasures  he  provided  was  a 
mere  incident.  He  seldom  spoke  to 
her  except  to  answer  some  question, 
or  to  point  out  some  place  of  inter 
est  as  they  journeyed  to  and  fro 

62 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

about  the  ranch.  She  had  not  been 
there  a  week  before  she  was  com 
pelled  to  change  her  ideas  of  West 
ern  democracy,  and  to  admit  that  she 
had  done  Landry  himself  an  injus 
tice.  What  she  could  not  understand 
was  his  attitude  toward  themselves, 
and  the  attitude  of  the  men  towards 
him.  The  former,  while  perfectly 
respectful,  had  nothing  that  could 
suggest  the  relation  of  master  and 
servant.  While  there  was  nothing 
of  assertiveness  about  his  manner, 
he  seemed  to  look  upon  them  calmly 
as  equals,  and  her  father  had  already 
accepted  him  as  such.  But  it  was 
harder  for  the  girl.  There  is,  in 
every  woman,  a  bit  of  the  snob,  and 
while  it  was  at  its  lowest  develop 
ment  in  this  clean,  sweet,  American 
maiden,  she  could  not  but  feel  a  cer 
tain  resentment  at  the  cool  way  in 

63 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

which  he  took  his  acceptability  for 
granted.  She  could  not  deny  that 
his  manners  and  his  language  were 
those  of  a  gentleman,  and  she  could 
not  withhold  a  measure  of  admira 
tion  for  his  sturdy  manhood,  as  she 
saw  him  hardy  and  alert  at  his 
labours,  or  swinging  across  the  plains 
at  the  long  lope  which  is  the  chief 
charm  of  the  Western  rider. 

The  men  treated  him  with  a  pecu 
liar  mixture  of  comradeship  and 
respect,  which  Mildred  could  attrib 
ute  to  nothing  but  his  superior  edu 
cation,  or  perhaps  his  prowess  with 
his  fists,  which  she  had  always  heard 
was  a  good  foundation  for  respect  in 
the  West. 

And  while  she  mused  and  pon 
dered  over  Landry,  he  went  calmly 
on,  treating  her  politely  and  letting 
her  alone.  Now,  there  was  just 

64 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

enough  of  the  coquette  in  Mildred's 
make-up  for  this  sort  of  treatment 
to  pique  her.  So  it  was  in  a  spirit 
entirely  feminine  that  she  set  out  to 
compel  the  notice  of  the  man  whose 
attentions  she  had  determined  to 
resent. 

With  this  end  in  view,  she  began 
to  talk  to  Landry  more,  and  to  at 
tempt  to  draw  him  out.  No  one 
could  long  resist  Mildred's  sweet 
ness  and  charm,  and  this  strange, 
reticent  ranchman  was  no  exception 
to  the  rule.  He  soon  responded,  and 
within  three  weeks  the  two  young 
people  were  on  a  footing  of  pleasant 
companionship. 

Landry  talked  more,  though  not 
much,  but  he  found  time  to  take  the 
girl  about  the  ranch,  showing  her 
things  which  he  did  not  think  Mr. 
Osborne  would  care  for,  and  so  did 

5  65 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

not  trouble  him  about*  He  grew 
frankly  to  like  her,  and  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal  it.  Mildred  often 
blushed  at  the  honest  admiration  she 
saw  in  his  gray  eyes,  and  it  gave  her 
a  thrill  of  something  between  pleas 
ure  and  fright  as  she  saw  how  his 
face  would  light  up  at  unexpected 
meetings  between  them.  A  man 
whose  face  was  such  a  tell-tale  might 
be  embarrassing  sometimes.  But  it 
was  pleasant  to  be  liked  in  such  a 
frank,  honest  way. 

They  rode  and  walked  together, 
and  he  taught  her  how  to  shoot  with 
the  rifle.  It  gave  him  a  quiet  delight 
to  saddle  her  pony  for  her  with  his 
own  hands,  and  he  taught  her  how 
to  guide  the  intelligent  little  beast, 
as  the  cowboy  does,  by  the  mere 
inclination  of  her  lithe  body. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Osborne  looked  on 

66 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

at  the  growing  intimacy  between 
them  and  made  no  attempt  to  check 
it.  He  liked  Landry  and  did  not  see 
why  Mildred  should  not  do  so,  espe 
cially  as  he  was  the  means  of  keep 
ing  her  out  in  the  open  air,  and  the 
roses  were  coming  back  into  her 
cheeks.  Of  course,  this  was  a  man's 
point  of  view. 

Men  are  so  unpractical  about  these 
things.  A  woman  would  have  looked 
at  the  matter  differently.  Mrs. 
Annesley,  now,  for  instance,  would 
have  scented  danger  as  soon  as  she 
saw  that  Landry  did  not  wear  buck 
skins  and  a  pistol.  A  man  hardly 
entertains  an  idea  of  love  in  a  case 
where  a  woman  goes  forward  and 
postulates  it. 

So  Landry  and  Mildred  rode  on 
toward  the  dreamland  of  romance,  he 
consciously,  gladly ;  she  unknowing. 

67 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

It  was  one  golden  morning  in  Octo 
ber  that  he  came  to  her  saying,  "I 
am  going  out  to  ride  the  fence,  Miss 
Mildred.  Some  of  the  men  report 
breaks  in  it  somewhere  along  the 
west  side.  Won't  you  come  with 
me!" 

"  Really,  I  ought  to  write  letters 
this  morning,  Mr.  Landry." 

"Oh,  please  don't  'Mr.'  Landry 
me,"  he  said  a  little  impatiently; 
"  surely  you  've  known  me  long 
enough  to  see  that  no  one  gives  me 
4  Mr.,'  and  to  do  like  them." 

She  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  You  must  forgive  me  for  being 
impatient,"  he  went  on.  "  But  you 
know  that  '  Mr.'  smells  to  me  of 
civilisation,  and  it  makes  me  feel 
stuffy." 

"  All  right,  I  '11 '  Mr.'  you  no  more, 
then,  Landry." 

68 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  He  smiled  gladly.  "  And  now, 
won't  you  come!  " 

"  I  ought  n't  to,  but  I  will ;  and 
we  '11  throw  up  the  wide  windows 
of  the  morning  to  remove  the  stuffy 
feeling."  She  laughed  gaily,  and 
went  in  to  put  on  her  strong,  gray 
habit. 

They  were  soon  out  and  in  the 
saddle  and  galloping  away  over  the 
plains,  the  sun  in  her  eyes  and 
the  wind  in  her  hair,  and  the  joy 
of  youth  and  freedom  throbbing  in 
her  heart. 

Landry  looked  at  her  in  silence, 
a  smile  like  a  sunbeam  lying  on  his 
lips.  The  desire  to  possess  her  rose 
up  and  grew  strong  in  his  being. 
What  a  glory  it  would  be  to  hold 
this  light,  airy  creature  against  the 
world,  to  anticipate  all  her  wants, 
and  to  supply  them! 

69 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

The  morning  was  like  a  song,  so 
sweet  it  was  half  sad.  The  air  was 
like  wine,  and  so  clear  that  the  far 
thest  mountain  ranges  looked  near 
and  neighbourly.  The  alfalfa  fields, 
with  their  deep,  dark  green,  half 
sprung  from  the  third  cutting,  stood 
out  in  deep  contrast  to  the  browns 
and  yellows  which  are  Colorado's 
prevailing  autumn  tints.  The  sky 
was  a  dream  of  blue  and  white,  with 
a  touch  of  crimson  over  a  peak  where 
the  sun  had  lately  come  up.  The 
mysterious,  ever-changing  mountains 
were  clothed  in  a  morning  veil  of 
pale  opal  light,  except  in  the  hol 
lows,  where  the  darkness  of  shadow 
turned  it  to  lavender  and  purple. 

Mildred  looked  like  the  child  of 
the  day  and  rode  like  the  spirit  of 
the  wind,  and  for  a  long  time  neither 
she  nor  Landry  said  anything.  They 

70 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

were  too  busy  just  enjoying  what 
Nature  had  given  them.  After  awhile 
she  drew  rein,  and  turned  to  him 
smiling. 

"  I  wonder  what  my  people  at  home 
would  say  of  this  weak  plant  if  they 
could  see  me  now." 

"  You  have  thrived  in  the  sunshine, 
and  they  could  only  be  thankful." 

Just  then  a  jack-rabbit  flashed 
across  their  path,  a  mere  leaping 
bundle  of  gray-white,  and  he  laughed 
aloud  at  the  joy  she  had  in  the  sight. 

"  They  would  say  for  one  thing 
that  your  capacity  for  enjoyment 
was  in  no  way  diminished  by  com 
ing  out  here." 

"  I  wonder,"  Mildred  laughed,  "  if 
they  could  believe  that  there  was 
anything  to  enjoy  in  this  desert." 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  it  called  a 
desert.  It  is  full  of  teeming  life  to 

71 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

me ;  with  things  to  see  and  things  to 
love  and  to  do." 

"  Oh,  but  they  would  never  under 
stand  that  unless  they  had  seen  it  for 
themselves.  I  know  I  did  n't.  Why, 
I  had  a  letter  from  my  sister  in  the 
mail  that  you  brought  yesterday,  and 
she  asked  me  if  you  wore  many  pis 
tols,  or  were  at  all  careless  in  hand 
ling  firearms.  I  had  written  her 
about  you,"  -blushing. 

Landry  laughed  a  good  deal  longer 
than  the  humour  of  the  remark  de 
manded.  But  he  was  laughing  out 
of  pure  joy  because  she  had  thought 
of  him  and  had  written  about  him. 
The  impulse  seized  him  to  speak  then 
and  know  his  fate,  and  he  was  only 
able  to  check  it  by  darting  away  on 
the  pretended  chase  of  another  rabbit. 
He  came  back  laughing. 

"What  an  awful  opinion  they  must 

72 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

have  of  us!"  he  said.  "I  wonder 
they  let  you  come  out  here." 

"  It  was  not  without  many  admoni 
tions  from  my  aunt  to  be  careful  of 
cowboys  and  catamounts  —  that  was 
quite  the  nearest  to  the  concrete  she 
could  bring  the  West,  and  so  she 
seized  on  that.  I  really  don't  be 
lieve  that  she  regards  this  part  of 
the  country  as  civilised." 

"Nothing  is  quite  so  conceited  as 
what  we  call  civilisation;  and  what 
does  it  mean  after  all,  except  to  lie 
gracefully,  to  cheat  legally,  and  to  live 
as  far  away  from  Grod  and  Nature  as 
the  world  limit  will  let.  If  it  must 
mean  that  out  here,  pray  God  that  it 
may  never  come  to  this  part  of  the 
country.  If  it  does,  then  some  of  us 
will  have  no  refuge." 

Mildred  looked  at  him  with  wide 
eyes.  "Why  are  you  so  bitter  I  "  she 

73 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

asked.  "Now,  I  think  that  civilisa 
tion  is  very  good  when  it  treats  us  well. 
Maybe  it  didn't  treat  you  well,  though. 
Anyway,  I  'm  glad  to  know  one  thing, 
that  papa  is  wrong.  He  says  that 
every  one  who  has  a  chance  to  live 
in  the  heart  of  the  world,  and  yet 
comes  here,  must  be  driven  either 
by  consumption,  cupidity,  or  crime. 

"  No,  some  of  us  come  to  get  breath 
ing  space,  when  we  are  stifled  back 
there  by  meanness  and  deceit.  Some 
of  us  come  here  to  look  at  the  great 
mountains  and  broad  plains,  and  for 
get  how  little  man  is ;  to  see  Nature, 
and,  through  it,  Nature's  God,  and  so 
get  back  to  faith." 

His  face  was  flushed,  and  his  man 
ner  vehement,  and  Mildred  thought 
she  had  offended  him. 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  mind  papa's  re 
mark  ;  he  was  only  trying  to  make  an 

74 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

epigram.  You  know  it  's  the  fashion 
to  make  epigrams  now,  alliterative, 
if  possible,  but  epigrams  of  some 
kind.  They  are  supposed  to  be  phil 
osophical  short-cuts.7' 

"  Yes,  I  know;  they  are  a  kind  of 
electric-lighted  royal  road  to  truth, 
but  I  confess,  I  never  did  like  electric 
lights.  But  you  must  forgive  me  for 
making  a  shadow  on  your  day." 

"  You  have  n't,"  she  said  simply. 

They  had  come  to  one  of  the  breaks 
in  the  fence  now,  and  he  had  dis 
mounted  to  see  what  could  be  done, 
and,  if  possible,  to  make  repairs.  He 
went  at  his  work  cheerfully,  almost 
joyously.  Mildred  watched  him  for 
a  time,  and  then  she  asked  suddenly, 
"Do  you  really  like  it,  Landryl " 

He  looked  up  in  surprise,  "  Why, 
yes;  why  notl ' 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  answered, 

75 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

blushing,  "  but  it  does  n't  seem  like 
you;  it  seems  so  trivial,  inadequate, 
inconsequential;  oh,  I  don't  know 
what  I  mean." 

"  Why,  it 's  work ;  I  'm  doing  some 
thing." 

"  But  would  n't  you  rather  be  doing 
something  else! ': 

"  I  don't  see  that  I  should.  I  'm 
not  only  mending  fences  out  here; 
that  would  be  trivial  perhaps,  al 
though  even  fence-mending  has  its 
place,  and  farther  south  they  have 
men  who  do  nothing  else  but  ride 
the  fence  day  after  day.  But  be 
sides  this,  we  are  digging  a  new  irri 
gation  ditch,  and,  altogether,  I  'm 
bearing  my  share  in  the  work  of 
feeding  the  world.  What  man  can 
do  morel ' 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,  —  but  —  but  — ' 
she  paused,  embarrassed. 

76 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Landry  laughed  and  went  on :  "  You 
see,  Miss  Mildred,  it  isn't  what  a 
man  does,  but  how  he  does  it.  I 
love  work,  not  for  work's  sake,  but 
for  what  it  accomplishes,  although 
I  do  find  a  certain  pleasure  in  the 
process." 

"  But  don't  you  know,  Landry, 
pardon  me  if  I-  seem  impertinent, 
you  might  have  made  a  good  soldier, 
or  an  officer,"  she  said  diffidently. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  should  want 
to  be,"  he  said  calmly;  and  then 
dropping  his  work  he  went  on:  "I 
know  it  isn't  heroic,  but  I  don't 
know  that  those  fellows,  brave  as 
they  may  be,  who  are  out  there  fight 
ing  a  lot  of  half-naked  savages  are 
doing  any  more  for  ultimate  good 
than  we  who  are  here,  fighting  the 
hard  conditions  of  nature.  I  like 
a  fight,  but  there  are  fights  and 

77 


THE     LOVE     OF     LAN  DRY 

fights,  and  1 'd  rather  know  that  this 
irrigation  ditch  that  I  'm  digging  is 
going  to  make  the  land  better  and 
a  lot  of  people  happier,  than  to 
feel  that  I  was  carrying  a  cartridge- 
belt  full  of  civilisation  to  folks  that 
didn't  want  it." 

"Oh,  shame!  shame!  you're  an 
anti-expansionist,"  said  Mildred. 

"  No,  I  'm  not  an  anti-expansionist, 
either.  I  believe  in  America' s  spread 
ing  out  as  big  and  as  broad  as  she 
can,  and  doing  all  the  good  she  can. 
But  whenever  I  look  around  me  on 
all  this  -  '  he  swept  his  eyes  around 
the  horizon, —  "  I  cannot  help  think 
ing  that  there's  a  good  deal  of  ex 
panding  to  be  done  at  home." 

"  Would  you  recall  the  men  from 
the  Philippines!" 

"  I  wouldn't  recall  anybody  or  any 
thing.  Those  fellows  for  that  work, 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

and  every  man  to  his  liking.  But  I 
do  say  that  a  good  many  of  those 
boys  who  are  out  there  wasting  their 
lives  under  suns  that  weren't  made 
to  shine  on  anybody  but  niggers, 
might  be  better  employed  out  here 
in  God's  country,  where  every  air  is 
a  blessing,  helping  to  make  a  para 
dise  of  this  land  that 's  so  near  it 
already." 

"Why,  Landry,  you're  really  elo 
quent  when  you  get  started." 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said,  blushing 
under  his  tan;  "I've  been  blowing 
off  a  good  deal,  but  I  was  so  full 
of  it." 

With  Landry's  work  the  morning 
went  quickly,  and  it  was  past  noon 
when  they  started  riding  leisurely 
back  to  the  ranch-house. 

"  I  wish  you  could  help  me  brighten 
things  for  the  boys  out  here  a  little," 

79 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

he  said.  "  Their  lives  are  sometimes 
dull.  I  Ve  been  thinking  of  giving 
them  some  music  one  of  these  nights. 
I  have  a  violin  and  a  guitar." 

"  You  have  I  '  she  exclaimed. 
"Why,  you  never  told  me." 

"  No,  I  'm  not  much  of  a  musician ; 
but  you  have  a  banjo,  and  I  could 
make  shift  if  you  could  help  me. 
Will  you?" 

She  hesitated.  He  was  so  blunt, 
so  direct.  Why  could  n't  he  hint  at 
things,  and  give  her  a  chancel 

"Will  you?"  he  repeated. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  at  last. 

And  as  they  alighted  at  the  door, 
and  he  held  her  hand  in  saying  good 
bye,  she  wondered  what  manner  of 
man  was  this  Landry,  who  hated 
civilisation  and  yet  practised  all  its 
graces. 


80 


CHAPTER  SIXTH 

"  T)APA,"  said  Mildred  when  she 

JL  and  her  father  were  alone  again, 
"  that  Mr.  Landry  has  very  queer 
ideas." 

"Is  that  so,  my  dear?  He  surely 
doesn't  maintain  that  the  moon  is 
made  of  green  cheese?  ' 

"  No,  no ;  but  he  does  maintain 
something  almost  as  heretical,  —  the 
heroism  of  common  labour." 

"  Oh,  he  preaches  that  doctrine, 
does  he,  he  being  the  common  la 
bourer,  eh? ': 

"Well,  he  doesn't  say  quite  that 
either;  for,  as  I  remember  now,  he 
said  that  he  wasn't  heroic,  but  he 
claims  that  the  men  who  make  a 

6  81 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

farm  or  a  ranch  better  are  as  good 
and  as  great  as  the  men  who  are 
fighting  in  the  Philippines." 

Mr.  Osborne  laughed,  then  said 
musingly,  "  I  Ve  seen  men  in  my  day 
whom  I  regard  as  greater  generals 
than  any  our  war  has  yet  produced, 
and  their  battle-fields  were  only  offices 
and  counting-rooms,  too.  Landry  is 
right.  He  has  a  great  deal  of  sound 
sense  for  a  man  in  his  station." 

"  His  station?  That 's  just  it.  Papa, 
what  is  his  station?" 

Mr.  Osborne  paused  and  looked  at 
her.  "  Well,  now  that  is  one  on  me. 
Come  to  think  of  it,  I  have  never 
considered  the  matter.  He  is  not  a 
man  whose  character  or  manner  lends 
itself  to  much  speculation  about  sta 
tion.  One  feels  so  sure  about  his 
manhood  that  he  forgets  to  ask  about 
the  status  of  it." 

82 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  But  I  do  want  very  much  to 
know,"  the  daughter  pursued.  "He 
has  asked  me  to  help  him  in  a  little 
entertainment  for  the  men,  and  I 
have  told  him  I  would." 

"  Oh,  well,  that  won't  hurt  you. 
It  will  be  a  good  thing  for  the  men, 
and  out  here  you  can  afford  to  be 
pretty  democratic, ^although  Landry 
strikes  me  as  being  a  man  one 
couldn't  well  be  ashamed  of  any 
where." 

It  pleased  Mildred  so  to  hear  her 
father  say  this  of  Landry  that  she 
immediately  resented  both  her  feel 
ing  and  his  remark. 

"I  must  say,  papa,  that  you  do 
make  some  sudden  and  enthusiastic 
friendships." 

"I  am  seldom  wrong, though,"  the 
old  man  returned. 

And  so  the  girl's  mind  was  set  at 

83 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

rest  as  to  the  fitness  of  her  helping 
Laiidry  in  his  entertainment  for  the 
men,  or  the  "  boys/'  as  he  more  often 
called  them. 

Somehow  the  young  man  seemed 
to  find  even  more  spare  time  than 
usual  that  week,  and  much  of  it  was 
spent  in  practising  with  her.  Some 
times  it  was  the  violin  and  the  banjo, 
sometimes  it  was  the  banjo  alone, 
and  as  often  it  tinkled  to  the  heavier 
strumming  of  the  guitar,  and  they 
laughed  and  enjoyed  it  and  were 
glad  they  had  thought  of  this  plan 
of  entertaining  the  boys. 

And  so  the  days  went  on,  and  the 
night  of  the  concert  arrived,  —  a 
moonlight  night,  with  a  cool  wind 
blowing  down  from  the  mountain 
after  a  hot  day.  The  ranch-house 
was  a  scene  of  repressed  joy.  Re 
pressed,  for  your  ranchman  prides 

84 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

himself  on  his  stoicism,  and  holds 
the  concealment  of  his  emotion  a 
great  virtue.  Young  Tod,  though, 
the  youngest  of  the  helpers,  had 
been  insane  with  delight,  and  was 
doing  fancy  steps  before  the  door 
an  hour  and  a  half  earlier  than  the 
hour  set  for  the  festivities. 

The  general  dining-room,  a  long 
wainscoted  chamber,  had  been  fitted 
up  with  chairs  and  settees  as  the 
audience  hall,  and  all  the  lamps  and 
lanterns  obtainable  had  been  brought 
into  requisition  to  make  it  bright 
and  cheerful.  Little  less  pleased 
than  Tod,  Mr.  Hendrickson  came  in 
as  soon  as  it  was  decently  near  the 
time  of  beginning  and  seated  himself 
near  the  centre  of  the  room,  smiling 
and  dumb  with  joy.  His  wife  was 
flying  around,  as  Tod  expressed  it, 
"  like  a  chicken  with  its  head  wrung 
85 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

off/7  very  busy  putting  the  finishing 
touches  to  things,  and  saying  an  ad 
monishing  word  to  the  boys,  who 
were  dropping  in,  one  by  one. 

A  lamp  flared  and  smoked,  and  a 
half-dozen  willing  pairs  of  hands 
were  up  to  attend  to  it,  and  as  many 
faces,  bronzed  and  mellow  in  the 
light,  bent  over  it,  smiling  to  be  of 
service. 

When  it  was  time  to  begin,  Mr. 
Osborne  came  in  with  Mildred  and 
the  banjo,  and  they  were  greeted 
with  a  burst  of  uproarious  applause. 
The  old  man  looked  a  little  embar 
rassed  and  sank  quickly  into  a  seat, 
where  he  sat  smiling  upon  the  scene 
as  if  it  were  all  a  play  and  he  had 
been  unexpectedly  cast  for  a  part. 
Mildred  blushed  like  a  peony,  and 
began  tuning  her  banjo  to  relieve 
her  confusion.  The  entrance  of 

86 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Landry  a  little  later  with  Ms  violin 
and  guitar  was  the  signal  for  another 
outburst.  The  rancher  only  smiled 
as  he  took  his  seat  beside  Mildred, 
and  she  made  the  mental  comment 
that  surely  this  man  was  different 
from  those  around  him. 

In  order  to  get  things  going,  Lan 
dry  struck  a  few  chords  on  his  guitar, 
and  he  and  Mildred  swung  into  one 
of  the  liveliest  of  Sousa's  marches. 
It  is  just  possible  that  none  of  the 
musical  societies  had  recommended 
the  banjo  and  guitar  as  two  instru 
ments  especially  adapted  for  such 
work.  But  these  bronzed,  hard- 
handed  fellows,  so  far  away  from 
the  pleasures  and  amusements  of  the 
town,  isolated  from  their  fellows,  the 
companions  of  cattle,  —  they  were  not 
critics.  The  music,  light  though  it 
was,  gave  them  the  hint  of  the  bet- 

87 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

ter,  brighter  things  outside  their  own 
barren  lives,  and  never  was  a  per 
formance  so  thoroughly  enjoyed. 
Fingers  were  snapped,  and  feet  were 
stamped  in  time  to  the  strain,  and 
some  even  joined  to  whistle  softly 
the  air. 

Encouraged  by  these  signs  of  appre 
ciation,  Mildred's  fingers  fairly  flew 
over  the  strings.  She  had  entered 
heart  and  soul  into  the  spirit  of  the 
affair.  Her  face  was  flushed  and  her 
eyes  were  shining.  No  wonder  that 
Landry  could  not  see  the  men  around 
him,  nor  the  room,  nor  hear  the  ap 
plause  which  greeted  the  music.  All 
his  senses  were  absorbed  in  one, 
and  that  one  was  wholly  devoted 
to  drinking  her  in  with  his  eager 
eyes. 

Finally,  though,  he  awakened,  and 
in  response  to  a  vociferous  encore 

88 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

t 

they  began  another  tune.     After  this 

he  called  out  to  Tod,  — 

"  Come  on,  now,  Tod,  and  give  us 
your  rancher's  song." 

"  Tod !  Tod !  "  chorused  the  others. 

Tod  ducked  his  head  and  sat  still. 
He  was  embarrassed  by  the  presence 
of  Mildred  who  seemed  to  him  like 
a  being  from  another  sphere. 

"Come  on,  Tod,"  repeated  Landry, 
striking  his  guitar,  "  the  boys  '11  join 
in  the  chorus.  Won't  you,  boys!  ' 

"  That 's  what !  "  they  shouted,  and 
"You  bet!  " 

Thus  adjured,  Tod  rose  from  his 
seat,  but  at  the  sight  of  the  faces 
looking  at  him,  collapsed  into  it 
again,  like  a  scared  schoolboy  on 
exhibition  day. 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  at 
this,  but  it  stopped  suddenly,  for  Mil 
dred  was  standing  up,  speaking. 

89 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

i? 

"  Won't  you  come  on  and  sing, 
please?"  she  was  saying.  "  I  should 
feel  very  badly  if  I  thought  you  felt 
strange  before  papa  and  me." 

"  Go  on !  you  can't  refuse  the  lady,' ' 
the  men  urged ;  and  Tod  rose  again 
a  little  less  embarrassed  and  shuffled 
forward.  He  bowed  awkwardly  to 
Mildred  as  he  came  out  and  gave  her 
a  look.  It  was  such  a  look  as  one 
of  the  rude  shepherds,  half-startled, 
half -uplifted,  might  have  bent  on  the 
angels  with  the  glad  tidings.  It  was  as 
if  the  purity  of  the  girl  had  suddenly 
metamorphosed  the  man's  whole  na 
ture  and  the  light  of  the  change  was 
made  manifest  in  his  eyes. 

Landry  saw  the  look,  and  the  in 
sane  desire  took  possession  of  him  to 
get  up  and  hug  Tod.  But  he  only 
said,  "  Go  on,"  and  struck  up  the 
tune. 

90 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Tod  began  to  sing  the  "  Ranch 
man's  Song,"  one  of  the  few  clean 
ones  in  the  plainsman's  repertoire,  — 

"  The  ranchman's  life  is  the  life  for  me,  — 

A  wild,  sweet  life  indeed ; 
By  day,  the  sun  on  the  mesa  free, 
By  night,  the  mad  stampede. 

CHORUS. 

A  long  lope,  and  a  slow  lope, 

That  is  the  gait  we  ride ; 
But  who  would  change  the  life  of  the  range 

For  the  city  and  all  its  pride  ? 


This  is  the  life  for  the  man  who  feels 
The  warm  blood  in  his  veins ; 

To  sit  him  straight  when  his  pony  wheels, 
And  to  skim  the  melting  plains. 
CHORUS. 


I  have  no  wife,  no  kin  have  I, 

I  bide  alone  and  free; 
But  cattle,  plains,  and  hill  and  sky 
Are  wife  enough  for  me. 
CHORUS. 
91 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

I  have  no  house,  and  I  have  no  home, 

So,  comrades,  when  I  die 
Just  plant  me  here,  where  the  cattle  roam, 
And  you  will  still  ride  by. 
CHORUS. 

The  men  roared  the  chorus  out 
lustily,  and  the  song  ended  with  a 
great  flourish.  Then  a  banjo  solo 
by  Mildred  ran  the  men  wild  again, 
and  while  they  were  still  shouting 
over  the  encore  she  played,  Landry 
began  singing  to  the  accompaniment 
of  his  own  guitar.  A  hush  fell  upon 
the  room,  and  Mildred  looked  at  him 
in  surprise.  His  voice  was  a  rich 
baritone  —  the  voice  for  a  man  —  and 
he  sang  with  deep  feeling,  even  emo 
tion.  It  was  only  a  simple  ballad,  — 
such  as  one  may  hear  from  the  ballad- 
singer  any  time  at  a  music  hall, — but 
the  manner  of  the  singing  was  in 
stant  in  its  effect.  The  men  began 

92 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

clearing  their  throats  •  and  looking 
down  at  their  boots.  Tod  got  up  and 
stood  with  his  back  to  the  rest,  look 
ing  at  the  wall  as  if  he  saw  a  picture 
there ;  nor  did  he  turn  around  when 
Landry  had  finished,  but  swept  his 
sleeve  quickly  and  surreptitiously 
across  his  eyes  and  joined  in  the 
hearty  applause.  The  men  straight 
ened  up  and  began  smiling  sheep 
ishly  at  each  other ;  and  not  one  of 
them  would  have  admitted  to  another 
the  presence  of  the  great  lump  in  his 
throat. 

Mildred  found  her  own  lashes  wet 
as  she  joined  Landry,  and  they 
broke  into  the  inspiriting  strains  of 
the  "  Georgia  Camp-Meeting."  The 
change  was  instantaneous.  The  men, 
like  great  children,  were  as  quickly 
swayed  from  grief  to  joy,  or  the  re 
verse.  The  music  got  into  their  blood 

93 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

like  fire,  and  the  imp  of  dancing 
tickled  their  feet.  Tod  suddenly  left 
his  corner,  and  springing  into  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  began  to  dance 
wildly,  but  not  ungracefully.  There 
was  the  hasty  pushing  back  of  chairs 
and  a  half-dozen  men  joined  him. 
Embarrassment  and  restraint  were 
forgotten  in  the  momentary  excite 
ment.  Even  Hendrickson  was  taken 
by  the  infection,  and  seizing  his 
plump  little  wife,  spun  her  dizzily 
about  the  room.  Tod  danced  his 
way  toward  Nina  and  then  paused 
before  her,  bowing.  The  maid  gave 
a  startled  glance  toward  Mildred, 
who  nodded,  and  a  moment  later 
she  was  flying  away  in  the  arms  of 
the  happy  rancher,  who  laughed  at 
the  envious  faces  of  his  comrades. 

When   the  tune  had  been  played 
through    there  were    loud    cries    of 

94 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Again !  Again !  '  and  it  was  re 
peated  to  the  hilarious  joy  of  the 
dancers.  Nina  came  back  breath 
less  from  the  exertion. 

"Oh,  Miss  Mildred,"  she  gasped, 
"  I  don't  know  what  you  '11  think 
of  me!" 

"I'll  think  you've  been  enjoying 
yourself  like  a  sensible  girl,"  replied 
Mildred. 

"  Mr.  Tod  is  a  nice  dancer,  of 
course  — ' ' 

"I  abhor  conventionality,"  inter 
rupted  Mildred.  Her  father  heard 
her  and  smiled  at  her.  He  was  sat 
isfied,  for  she  was  happy. 

They  played  once  more,  and  then 
Landry  announced  that  the  concert 
was  over.  The  men  took  their  hats 
and  crowded  to  the  door;  but  there 
they  stopped  and  looked  hungrily 
back. 

95 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

Mildred  will  never  know  why  she 
did  it,  save  that  something  in  their 
eyes  compelled  it  and  made  her  for 
get  herself,  and  she  swung  her 
banjo  into  position  and  began  play 
ing  softly,  "Home,  Sweet  Home." 

Landry  did  not  attempt  to  accom 
pany  her,  but  stood  gazing  at  her  in 
admiration  and  delight.  The  men 
were  transfixed.  Again  Tod  turned 
to  the  wall,  and  there  were  honest 
tears  in  the  eyes  of  some  of  the 
fellows. 

"  Grood-night,  and  thanks,77  they 
said  when  she  had  finished;  and 
then  they  stepped  out  as  if  afraid 
to  disturb  something  that  she  had 
put  to  sleep  within  them.  But  once 
outside,  their  restraint  fell  off  like  a 
mantle  from  their  shoulders,  and  they 
rent  the  night  air  with  three  cheers  for 
the  lady  and  three  more  for  Landry. 

96 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Mildred  looked  at  Landry  as  she 
took  her  father's  arm.  "  What  great 
children  they  are,"  she  said. 

"  You  have  made  them  very  happy 
to-night,"  Landry  returned,  "  and  I 
thank  you  for  helping  me." 

"Don't  thank  me,"  she  said.  "I 
feel  selfish,  I  am  so  happy.  I  am 
happier  than  I  have  ever  been." 

"  I  am  so  glad,  and  the  boys  will 
not  forget  this,  you  may  rest  assured. 
We  always  try  to,  have  something 
like  this  for  them  before  the  fall 
round-up,  but  there  has  been  none 
like  this." 

"  The  fall  round-up,  what  is  that!  " 

"  We  get  together  all  the  cattle 
twice  a  year,  —  in  the  spring  and  fall, 
when  we  drive  them  from  the  ranges 
down  into  the  valley.  Next  week  is 
time  for  the  fall  driving." 

"Oh!  may  I  see  it?" 

7  97 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"It  is  a  rather  rough  experience, 
but  I  will  try  my  best  to  help  you 
to  a  sight  of  it.  You  will  go,  Mr. 
Osborne?" 

"  I  shall  be  greatly  interested." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Landry.  Grood- 
night." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Landry,  and 
under  his  breath,  "  God  bless  you!  " 


98 


CHAPTER  SEVENTH 

A  WHOLE  week  passed,  a  happy 
week,  full  of  the  joy  of  out-door 
life  for  Mildred.  She  saw  herself 
acquiring  both  gaiety  and  health,  the 
reward  one  gains  by  living  near  to 
Nature's  heart.  She  was  not  yet 
done  babbling  of  the  pleasure  the 
concert  had  given  her,  and  her  father 
went  on,  smiling,  happy  too,  and  un 
seeing.  The  poor  man  thought  it 
really  was  the  concert  that  had 
pleased  his  daughter,  and  brought 
a  light  into  her  eyes  and  a  thrill  into 
her  voice  that  he  had  never  known 
there  before  now.  A  girl  may  be  of 
a  very  charitable  disposition,  and 
Mildred  was  such  a  one,  but  there 
are  certain  effects  on  the  feminine 

99 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

nature  which  even  the  joy  of  doing 
good  cannot  produce.  She  had  sud 
denly  become  more  affectionate  than 
usual  with  her  father,  and  she  had 
fallen  into  the  way  of  running  to 
him  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
and  throwing  her  arms  around .  his 
neck  with  quick,  unaccounted  for 
kisses.  Her  father  called  it  pecking, 
took  it  gladly,  and  attributed  it  all  to 
returning  health  —  and  the  concert. 

The  girl  developed  a  hundred  pretty 
little  ways,  which,  notwithstanding 
her  charm,  she  had  not  possessed 
before.  She  was  as  gay  and  as  joy 
ous  as  a  bird  and  as  irresponsible. 
She  went  about  the  place  singing,  and 
the  men  looked  on  and  blessed  her. 
Little  Mrs.  Hendrickson  adored  her, 
while  her  husband's  admiration  seri 
ously  interfered  with  his  articulate- 
ness  whenever  the  sprightly  maiden 

100 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

was  around.  Meanwhile,  Mildred  her 
self  had  not  analysed  her  feelings. 
She  was  just  glad.  (Had  as  a  robin 
is,  or  a  squirrel,  and  she  did  not 
know  that  it  was  because  Landry 
was  near  her  that  her  life  was  so 
much  like  a  holiday.  She  was  con 
tent  to  take  the  joy  without  question 
ing  whence  it  came.  But  she  was 
destined  to  an  unpleasant  awakening. 
When  God  is  letting  a  revelation 
slowly  illumine  the  mind  and  soul 
of  one  of  his  creatures,  there  is 
too  often  some  fool  to  rush  in  and 
anticipate  his  process.  This  was  the 
part  upon  which  Mrs.  Annesley  now 
entered.  Although  she  was  nearly 
three  thousand  miles  away,  she  felt 
what  Mr.  Osborne  on  the  spot  could 
not  see.  With  the  solicitude  of  the 
kindly  intentioned  destroyer,  she 
wrote  Mildred:  — 
101 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  MY  DEAR  CHILD,  —  I  feel  it  my  duty 
[they  always  do  feel  it  their  duty]  to  men 
tion  a  thing  which  both  youi  dear  sister  and 
myself  have  noticed  in  your  last  letters.  You 
know,  my  dear  Mildred,  I  am  the  last  person 
in  the  world  whom  any  one  could  accuse  of 
being  suspicious  ;  but  there  are  certain  cir 
cumstances  which  make  me  feel  that  I  should 
be  doing  less  than  my  duty  to  you  as  the 
daughter  of  my  dear  deceased  sister  did  I 
fail  to  warn  you  of  what  I  fear.  My  dear, 
who  is  this  man  Landry,  and  what  are  your 
relations  with  him  ?  Are  you  aware,  child, 
that  you  have  spoken  of  him  in  every  one  of 
your  last  letters  ?  Do  you  know  that  in  the 
very  last  you  called  his  name  six  times? 
[Mildred  felt  that  she  knew  just  the  manner 
in  which  her  aunt  would  have  shot  that  last 
question  at  her  could  she  have  been  there  in 
person,  and  her  face  was  suffused  with  angry 
blushes.  The  letter  went  on.]  From  what 
I  can  understand  from  your  letters,  the  fel 
low  is  a  common  cowboy,  or,  I  hesitate  at  the 
word,  —  cow-puncher,  as  I  have  heard  them 
102 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

called.  Dear,  let  me  beg  you  not  to  disgrace 
your  family.  I  have  heard  of  young  girls 
falling  in  love  with  such  persons  out  of  a 
mistaken  sense  of  the  romantic.  Don't  do  it, 
Mildred.  Think  over  what  I  have  said,  and 
confide  in  me.  If  necessary,  Helen  and  I  will 
come  out  to  see  after  you.  Helen  may  come 
now,  as  Mr.  Berkeley  has  spoken.  I  hope  that 
I  do  not  anticipate  your  sister  in  telling  you 
this,  but  she  would  have  told  you  soon  anyway. 
"  One  more  thing,  my  dear  niece,  and  I  am 
done.  It  has  been  brought  to  my  ears  that 
the  women  of  Colorado  are  advocating  riding 
their  horses  astride.  Horrors !  And  have 
made  an  appeal  to  the  country  on  the  score 
of  humanity.  Oh,  Mildred,  I  cannot  even 
contemplate  the  spectacle  of  a  niece  of  mine 
astride  a  horse.  [Mrs.  Annesley  underscored 
her  "  astride  "  as  she  had  done  her  questions 
about  Landry.]  Don't  do  it,  my  dear.  Pro 
priety  in  a  girl  of  your  station  is  very  much 
more  necessary  than  humanity.  The  poor 
can  afford  to  be  humane.  The  rich  cannot 
afford  to  be  less  than  proper. 
103 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Ask  your  dear  blind  father  where  his  eyes 
are,  and  believe  me, 

"  Your  affectionate  aunt, 

"ANNE  ANNESLEY." 

Mildred  finished  the  letter,  and 
flinging  it  across  the  room,  burst  into 
tears.  There  should  be  a  penalty 
imposed  upon  the  old  woman  who 
wounds  the  maiden  modesty  of  a 
young  girl.  Mildred  cried  for  very 
shame,  but  she  was  not  without  the 
temper  to  resent  her  aunt's  letter. 

"Aunt  Annesley,"  she  exclaimed 
through  her  tears,  "is  a  meddling, 
narrow-minded  old  woman.  I  in  love 
with  Landry,  indeed!"  And  then 
she  blushed  so  hotly  that  she  hid  her 
face  in  her  arms  and  wept  the  more, 
and  in  that  moment  it  went  very 
hard  for  Landry.  The  sins  of  Mrs. 
Annesley  were  visited  upon  his  head. 
"  He  is  very  presumptuous,"  Mildred 

•  104 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

thought,  "  and  no  doubt  took  it  for 
granted  that  I  cared  for  him,  just 
because  I  was  kind  to  him.  He  has 
been  no  more  than  my  groom,  and  I'd 
as  soon  think  of  marrying  the  butler. 
Oh,  howl  hate  Aunt  Annesley!" 

The  girl's  pride  was  wounded  to 
the  quick,  and  it  is  a  quality  which 
women  and  snakes  have  in  common, 
when  wounded,  to  strike,  regardless 
of  reason,  at  everything  near,  and 
so  Mildred  felt  angry  with  every  one 
about,  as  being  concerned  in  her 
humiliation.  She  sat  down  and  wrote 
a  brief,  curt  note  to  her  aunt :  — 

"MY  DEAR  AUNT  [it  ran],  —  I  am  ex 
ceedingly  glad  to  hear  that  Mr.  Berkeley  has 
proposed.  It  relieves  you  of  one  great  re 
sponsibility.  I  can  assure  you  also  that  I  am 
not  riding  astride,  nor  am  I  going  to  marry 
Landry,  who  has  been  little  more  than  a  faith 
ful  groom  to  me." 

105 


THE     LOVE    OF     LAN  DRY 

That  was  all,  and  it  was  unworthy 
of  her ;  but  who  can  blame  a  young 
girl,  hurt  as  she  was,  for  being  unjust 
to  every  one  about  her!  She  read  the 
note  through  again  and  again,  and 
the  meanness  of  it  struck  her  more 
and  more  each  time.  Finally,  she 
tore  it  into  shreds.  "I  won't  send 
it,"  she  cried,  "  I  won't  send  it.  She 
may  think  as  she  pleases." 

Very  sad  and  miserable  she  felt  as 
she  went  out-of-doors  to  the  shelving 
roof  which  did  duty  as  a  porch,  and 
where  her  father  was  now  sitting 
with  his  cigar. 

"  Why,  what  is  it,  my  dear?  "  ex 
claimed  Osborne.  "  You  're  not  look 
ing  well." 

"I'm  feeling  very  well,"  she  re 
plied.  But  I  've  been  reading  let 
ters  from  home." 

"And  you're  homesick?     Well,  I 

106 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

don't  wonder,  child.  But  Landry 
shall  cheer  you  up." 

It  was  like  a  match  to  the  fuse. 
She  turned  upon  her  father,  all  the 
pain  of  her  resentment  and  humilia 
tion  flashing  in  her  eyes  and  thrilling 
in  her  voice.  "  I  am  sure,  papa,  I 
don't  see  why  I  must  depend  upon 
Landry  for  amusement,"  she  said 
angrily. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  and  he  were 
such  friends." 

"  We  are  not  friends.  I  am  sur 
prised  that  you  want  your  daughter 
to  make  friends  with  the  servants. 
I  have  ridden  with  him  because  there 
was  nothing  else  to  do." 

"Why,  Mildred,"  said  her  father, 
in  surprise,  "I  am  sorry  if  I  have 
seemed  to  neglect  you.  I  —  I  — 
thought  —  " 

He  stopped  helplessly. 

107 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Oh,  every  one  thinks/'  she  said  a 
little  brutally.  And  then,  there  was 
Landry  approaching,  swinging  along 
with  his  swift,  easy  stride.  She  gave 
him  one  glance  and  then  turned  and 
went  into  the  house. 

He  saw  the  action  and  wondered. 
What  had  he  done  to  offend  her? 
He  would  rather  his  right  arm  were 
cut  off  than  that  he  should  give  her 
pain.  He  came  up  awkwardly  and 
stammered  a  few  commonplaces  to 
Mr.  Osborne,  who  was  equally  puz 
zled  and  embarrassed ;  but  his  mind 
was  with  the  girl  who  had  so  palpa 
bly  turned  her  back  upon  him. 

What  had  he  done?  What  had  he 
done?  He  went  away  cursing  him 
self  for  a  blundering  fool,  who  had 
stupidly  wounded  the  woman  he 
loved  and  yet  had  not  sense  enough 
to  know  how  he  had  done  it. 

108 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  At  least,  civilisation  has  that  much 
good  in  it,"  he  told  himself,  "that  I 
could  not  wound  a  woman  without 
knowing  when  and  how.  But  I'll 
find  out.  I  '11  find  out,  damn  it,  if  I 
have  to  crawl  to  her  on  my  knees." 

He  did  not  know  —  how  could  he? 
—  that  he  was  being  made  to  suffer 
011  account  of  a  meddling  old  woman 
three  thousand  miles  away. 

When  Mildred  had  gone  in,  she 
instantly  regretted  the  act,  and  suf 
fered  in  mind  little  less  than  Landry 
himself.  After  all,  it  was  not  his 
fault.  He  had  possibly  never  thought 
of  love  in  connection  with  her  at  all. 
But  she  was  conscious  of  no  great 
pleasure  in  the  thought.  She  felt 
that  she  ought  to  be  glad,  for,  of 
course,  it  was  impossible  that  she 
could  be  anything  to  him  or  he  to 
her.  But,  nevertheless,  she  was  mis- 

109 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

erable,  and  it  was  a  miserable  dinner 
that  she  ate  that  day.  In  the  after 
noon  she  sat  on  the  porch  with  her 
father,  and  tried  to  be  cheerful,  as  was 
her  wont;  but  her  cheerfulness  had 
departed,  and  she  made  but  a  sorry 
feint  at  it.  She  wanted  to  be  just 
to  Landry.  She  wanted  to  make 
amends  to  him,  but  she  feared  her 
self,  and  was  frightened  if  she  even 
heard  his  step.  Finally,  after  several 
false  alarms,  he  did  turn  the  corner 
of  the  house,  and  start  towards  her. 
Oh,  if  she  could  only  fly !  Of  course 
he  had  seen  her  displeasure  of  the 
morning  and  would  be  sure  to  ask 
the  cause  of  it,  and  what  could  she 
say?  She  wished  he  wouldn't  be  so 
fearfully  direct.  He  never  hinted  at 
a  thing.  He  always  spoke  straight 
out,  and  there  was  no  getting  away 
from  the  point  with  him.  She  had 
no 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

observed  this  before  in  him.  She  bit 
her  lips  and  waited,  because  she 
dared  not  snub  him  again.  It  was 
awful.  She  could  see  his  face  now. 
A  sort  of  fascination  held  her  eyes. 
There  were  lines  of  pain  about  his 
mouth.  She  had  hurt  him,  she  knew, 
and  she  did  not  know  how  to  tell 
him  why,  so  the  prayer  went  up  from 
her  soul  that  something  might  inter 
vene  to  prevent  their  meeting. 

Mildred's  prayer  was  unexpectedly 
answered.  A  wagon  rattled  up  to 
the  entrance,  and  a  man  got  out  and 
stood  for  a  moment  talking  to  the 
driver.  Then  he  turned  and  came 
hurriedly  towards  them.  Landry  had 
stopped,  and  as  the  newcomer  drew 
nearer,  turned  his  eyes  first  upon 
him  and  then  upon  Mildred.  She 
felt  the  blood  leave  her  face,  and  in 
a  moment  she  seemed  to  have  lived 
ill 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

the  space  of  a  century.  It  was 
Arthur  Heathcote. 

"Awful  of  me  to  drop  down  on 
you  in  this  way/'  said  Heathcote, 
after  greeting  them;  "  but  you  know 
I  've  been  out  this  way  before,  and 
I  thought  I  'd  like  to  see  the  country 
again,  so  here  I  am.  I  'm  so  glad  to 
see  you,  Miss  Osborne,  and  you,  Mr. 
Osborne." 

He  lied  very  glibly,  but  his  face 
was  red  and  he  looked  like  a  guilty 
schoolboy. 

Osborne  was  frankly  glad  to  see 
him,  but  even  Mildred  herself  realised 
that  her  greeting  was  cold  and  formal. 

"  Thought  maybe  your  people  might 
put  me  up  for  a  week  or  two.  Of 
course,  I  did  n't  know.  If  they  can't, 
why,  I  '11  be  trotting  along." 

"  Of  course  they  can,' '  said  Osborne, 
heartily.  "Landry!  ' 

112 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Landry  came  forward;  the  two 
men  were  introduced.  Each,  eyed 
the  other  as  if  taking  stock  of  his 
strength  and  fighting  ability. 

"  Won't  you  try  to  help  us  locate 
Heathcotet" 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to,"  said  Landry, 
but  his  face  belied  him. 

They  went  into  the  house,  and  the 
Englishman  was  soon  placed.  Mrs. 
Hendrickson  was  overcome  with  joy 
at  being  able  to  oblige  any  friend  of 
Mr.  Osborne's,  and  they  could  and 
would  put  Mr.  Heathcote  up  for  as 
long  as  he  wanted  to  stay.  So  his 
luggage  was  brought  in  from  the 
road,  and  he  settled  himself,  like  the 
thorough  Britisher  he  was,  at  home 
wherever  he  took  off  his  hat. 

After  doing  what  he  could  for  the 
new  arrival,  Landry  came  out  of  the 
house  again.  But  this  time  he  did 

8  113 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

not  go  toward  Mildred.  He  only 
bowed  to  her  as  he  passed,  and  went 
with  set  face  out  toward  the  barn. 

Mildred  could  have  wept  from  very 
grief  and  vexation.  She  knew  what 
he  must  think  of  her,  and  her  face 
burned.  He  would  believe  that  she 
had  known  of  Heathcote's  proposed 
visit,  and  had  snubbed  him  that  he 
might  be  conveniently  out  of  the 
way.  Oh,  the  shame  of  it!  The 
meanness  of  her  nature  as  he  must 
see  it!  She  was  glad  that  he  had 
been  proud  enough  to  pass  her  by. 
She  could  not  respect  a  man  who 
would  stoop  to  a  woman  who  had 
acted  as  contemptibly  as  she  had 
appeared  to  act.  But  then  her 
thoughts  took  another  turn.  He 
should  not  have  thought  it  of  her. 
He  had  no  grounds  for  believing 
her  so  low.  But  then,  what  did  she 

114 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

care!  She  didn't.  She  knew  she 
didn't  care,  for  she  told  herself  so 
several  times  before  Arthur  Heath- 
cote  came  out  to  talk  to  her. 

Her  feelings  as  she  saw  him 
approaching  were  a  study,  even  to 
herself.  She  could  not  forget  the  big- 
hearted  Englishman's  simple  kind 
ness  that  wet  September  night,  when 
she  had  made  the  child  the  object 
of  her  impulsive  charity.  She  liked 
him,  but  she  was  angry  at  his  intru 
sion.  Here  she  had  been  living  so 
close  to  Nature,  and  now  he  had 
come  smelling  of  civilisation  —  in  her 
thoughts  she  unconsciously  quoted 
Landry  —  to  break  up  her  paradise. 
Perhaps  her  aunt  had  sent  him. 
Maybe  he  knew  about  Landry.  Had 
he  come  to  spy  upon  her  actions  ? 
But  she  dismissed  the  thought  as 
soon  as  it  was  formed.  That  was 

115 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

not  like  Heathcote;  but  oh!  she 
wished  he  had  not  come.  However, 
he  was  here,  and  coming  towards  her 
smiling  now.  The  sky  that  she  had 
loved  had  lost  its  colour.  The  sun 
set  which  she  had  looked  at  with 
Landry  beside  her  was  devoid  of 
glory.  Everything  seemed  dull  and 
gray  to  her,  and  all  because  a  foolish 
old  woman  had  written  a  letter,  and 
an  unwelcome  lover  had  come  at  the 
wrong  hour,  and  a  hard-headed  girl 
had  refused  to  listen  to  the  dictates 
of  her  heart. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Miss  Mildred,  that 
you  will  think  hardly  of  my  racing 
out  here." 

"I  cannot  blame  you  for  wanting 
to  see  the  country  again.  I  love  it 
myself." 

"  Yes;  but  I  mean  for  coming  out 
here  after  you." 

116 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

1 '  Surely  that  would  not  be  fair,  unless 
you  blamed  me  for  coming  before  you. ' ' 

"That's  so.  But  now  you're 
laughing  at  me  again.  Indeed  you 
are.  But,  you  know,  I  thought  you 
would  nt  care  if  I  just  came." 

"I  am  sure  I  don't." 

Poor  fellow!  he  was  helpless  and 
inarticulate  after  that. 

"  Of  course,  you  know  why  I  came.' ' 

"  You  have  already  told  me  it  was 
because  you  had  been  out  here  before, 
and  you  wished  to  see  the  country  again. 
A  very  good  reason  for  coming. ' ' 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  Heathcote  pro 
tested;  "you  know  I  was  just  telling 
a  few  then.  Mildred,  you  know  why 
I  came.  It  was  because  I  couldn't 
stay  away  from  you.  I  could  n't  take 
no  for  an  answer.  ' 

"  Arthur,"    she    said    sadly,   "  you 
make  it  so  hard  for  me." 
117 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"Forgive  me,"  he  broke  in,  "I 
don't  want  to  persecute  you.  Really, 
I  didn't  intend  speaking  until  time 
for  me  to  go  away." 

"  Arthur,"  she  said  again,  "  I  do 
like  you,  but  won't  you  give  up  hop 
ing  or  thinking  that  I  will  marry 
you  I  I  cannot.  I  cannot. " 

There  was  a  decided  set  to  Arthur 
Heathcote's  chin  as  he  replied,  "  I 
will  not  give  up  hope  until  you  are 
the  wife  of  some  other  man,  but  I 
won't  persecute  you.  I  love  you, 
Mildred,  and  a  love  like  mine  is 
not  to  be  daunted.  Now,  let 's  not 
think  any  more  of  it  while  I  am  out 
here.  Let 's  be  good  friends,  for  I 
believe  you  when  you  say  that  you 
like  me,  and  we  can  have  a  pleasant 
unrestrained  time,  if  you  will  let  me 
walk  with  you  and  ride  with  you." 

"  You  shall  walk  with  me,  and  you 

118 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

shall  ride  with  me,  Arthur,  and  I 
wish  I  could  say  more." 

"  Oh,  I  have  time,"  he  said,  and 
there  was  a  shake  in  his  voice,  in 
spite  of  the  brave  ring  of  it,  "  and 
after  that,  there  is  eternity."  Then 
he  laughed.  "  Oh,  I  say,  I  like  your 
man,  Landry,  although  I  can't  under 
stand  him.  A  cowboy  who  talks  like 
a  college  man  is  something  of  a  para 
dox,  you  know." 

' t  That  is  not  a  strange  thing. 
Every  American  is  a  paradox,  unless 
he  happens  to  be  an  Anglomaniac." 

"  I  like  the  paradoxes  better.  It  's 
what  we  expect  of  Americans.  I 
don't  like  this  sudden  turn  for 
friendship  and  all  that  between  us. 
We  haven't  got  a  soul,  now,  to 
whet  our  boys'  belligerent  appetites 
against,  and  whom  have  you  I  " 

"  Oh,  we  feel  our  loss  as  greatly  as 

119 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

you  do.  But  then,  we  have  a  little 
trouble  on  our  hands. " 

"  Yes,  but  that  's  only  a  brush. 
Inferiors  never  make  good  enemies. 
A  fellow  could  never  have  a  real 
jolly  fight  with  his  valet.  He  might 
kick  the  man,  but  kicking  a  man  is 
not  fighting  him." 

"  Well,  you  should  n't  complain, 
at  least.  England  did  find  metal 
more  attractive  among  the  Boers." 

1  i  That  7s  the  reason  she  went  to 
it,  like  steel  to  the  magnet." 

It  was  in  this  way  that  Mildred 
and  Arthur  talked  on,  building  up  a 
wall  of  conversation  behind  which 
to  hide,  —  the  girl,  with  her  torn 
heart  and  wounded  pride,  the  man 
hopeless,  in  spite  of  his  bravery,  say 
ing  bantering  nothings  while  his 
face  was  white  and  drawn. 


120 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH 

LANDRY'S  feelings  were  severely 
hurt  when  he  supposed  that  Mil 
dred  had  merely  made  use  of  him, 
and  then  tossed  him  away  like  a 
soiled  glove.  It  did  not  seem  like 
her,  and  his  grief  was  not  so  much 
for  himself  as  for  the  ideal  he  had 
had  of  her,  which  was  now  shattered. 
A  man  may  lose  faith  in  manhood, 
and  his  nature  suffer  a  severe  wrench, 
but  for  him  to  lose  faith  in  woman 
hood,  which  means,  to  the  average 
man,  one  woman  upon  whom  he  has 
staked  all  his  beliefs  and  hopes,  often 
proves  the  breaking  of  him. 

But,  hurt  as  he  was,  it  would  not 
have    been   in   Landry's   nature    to 
sulk  long.     He  was  too  vigorous  and 
121 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

direct,  and  his  love  being  stronger 
than  his  resentment,  he  would  even 
tually  have  gone  to  Mildred,  and  have 
had  it  out  with  her.  But  it  was  re 
served  for  Heathcote,  unconsciously, 
to  hasten  the  event.  Unconsciously, 
yes;  not  that  he  would  not  have 
done  it  knowingly  had  he  been  aware 
how  matters  stood. 

It  was  the  morning  after  his  arrival 
that  he  sought  out  Landry  where  he 
was  wandering  disconsolately  among 
the  horses,  unable  to  conceal  his  unrest. 

"I  say,  Mr.  Landry,"  said  Heath- 
cote,  "  I  'm  afraid  I  ?m  bothering  you 
awfully,  you  know,  but  I  want  to  see 
you  for  a  moment.'7 

"  Here  I  am,"  said  Landry,  not  too 
pleasantly ;  and  then  he  added,  some 
what  to  soften  the  speech,  ' t  and  at 
your  service." 

"  I  was  thinking  maybe  you  might 
122 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

help  me  to  a  mount.  I  don't  like  to 
ask  Mr.  Osborne,  you  know,  as  I 
dropped  down  on  them  rather  un 
expectedly,  and  it  seems  mean  to 
trouble  them." 

Landry  in  a  moment  was  all  alert. 
"  Why,  I  thought  they  were  expect 
ing  you,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  no,  neither  of  them  knew 
anything  about  me  until  I  turned 
up  here." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  help  you  to  a 
mount,  Mr.  Heathcote;  just  come 
with  me."  There  was  a  sudden  cor 
diality  in  Landry's  manner  that  quite 
took  possession  of  Heathcote.  In 
fact,  Heathcote  might  have  had  all 
the  horses  on  the  ranch  just  at  that 
moment  with  Landry's  joyous  per 
mission.  His  troubles  fell  away  from 
him  as  the  black  shadows  fall  from 
the  mountains  before  the  sun.  He 
123 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

was  all  life  and  heart  again,  though 
he  could  not  but  blame  himself  for 
having  doubted  Mildred's  honesty, 
even  for  a  moment.  Evidently,  he 
had  offended  her  in  some  small  way, 
and  he  would  go  to  her  and  find  out 
what  it  was  and  make  it  all  right. 
His  ideal  was  re-instated,  whole  and 
without  a  blemish.  The  goddess  was 
again  in  her  shrine,  and  he  was  very 
happy. 

There  was  a  great  joy  in  Heath- 
cote's  breast,  too,  for  the  mount  with 
which  Landry  provided  him  filled 
him  with  unspeakable  admiration. 
It  was  Landry's  own  horse,  so  gen 
erous  was  that  young  man.  She 
was  a  big  roan,  raw-boned  and  strong- 
limbed.  A  small,  well-formed  head 
was  well  set  on  her  solid  shoulders. 

"What  a  beauty,  what  a  beauty!  " 
said  Heathcote. 

124 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 


"  You  '11  find  her  as  good  as  she  is 
beautiful,"  said  Landry,  with  pardon 
able  vanity. 

"  My  knees  are  really  itching  to  be 
astride  of  her.7' 

"  If  you  have  nothing  to  do,  get  on 
and  try  her." 

The  next  moment  the  Englishman 
was  in  the  saddle,  whence  he  beamed 
on  Landry.  The  horse  moved  off  at 
her  easy  gait.  This  was  too  much 
for  Heathcote.  The  pure  air  and  the 
wide  plain  brings  out  the  natural  in 
a  man,  and  it  was  something  of  a 
reversion  to  primitive  instincts  when 
the  delighted  rider  tossed  his  hand 
in  the  air  and  gave  a  whoop.  He 
would  not  have  believed  it  possible 
had  any  one  predicted  it  of  him.  He 
felt  the  enthusiasm  of  a  strong  man 
for  fine  animals,  and  dimly,  too,  some 
thing  of  the  influence  of  the  vast 

125 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

life  about  him.  He  circled  back  to 
Landry,  his  face  glowing,  and  the 
gladness  of  a  big,  unspoiled  boy 
showing  in  his  eyes. 

"I  say,"  he  exclaimed,  "are  you 
really  going  to  let  me  ride  her! 
Aren't  you  depriving  yourself  now!" 

1 1  She  's  yours  as  long  as  you  are 
here/'  said  Landry,  "  and  I  'm  glad 
you  like  her." 

"Mr.  Landry,"  said  Heathcote, 
reaching  down  his  hand  as  solemnly 
as  if  it  were  a  ceremonial,  "  if  ever 
you  come  to  England,  you  shall  have 
the  finest  horse  in  my  stable." 

"  Thank  you." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  and 
were  friends  from  that  moment. 
Three  things  draw  men  close,  —  to 
suffer,  to  dare,  and  to  enjoy  together; 
and  they  found  a  fellow-feeling  in 
their  very  gladness.  Heathcote  for- 

126 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

got  the  traditions  of  his  people,  for 
got  to  ask  whence  Landry  came; 
whether  he  were  cowboy,  stable-man, 
or  what.  He  only  knew  him  for  a 
good  fellow.  They  were  two  strong, 
clean  men,  face  to  face,  each  drunk 
Avith  the  joy  of  living  and  loving. 
What  more  was  needed  to  make  them 
friends! 

The  Englishman  rode  away  towards 
the  ranch-house,  and  his  friend  looked 
after  him.  He  saw  a  fine  rider  and  a 
fine  man,  such  a  one  as  might  have 
taken  any  woman's  heart  captive. 

"  It  '11  be  a  hard  fight,"  said  Landry, 
musingly,  "but  it  will  be  a  square 
one ;  and  if  I  lose,  I  '11  have  the  satis 
faction  of  losing  to  a  worthy  fellow. 
Oh,  well  —  "  and  he  fell  a-thinking. 

It  was  because  of  all  this  that 
Mildred  Osborne  had  the  misfortune 
to  grow  very  angry  that  morning. 

127 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Heathcote  came  riding  toward  her, 
and  she  saw  that  he  sat  Landry 's 
horse.  Resentment  flashed  instantly 
into  her  heart.  "  Landry  has  no 
right  to  deprive  himself.  Maybe  he 
thinks  it  will  please  me."  Then  she 
stopped  saying  things  to  herself,  and 
said  "  Good-morning"  in  response  to 
Heathcote's  bow. 

1 '  Your  man,  Landry  -     '  he  began. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Heathcote,"  she 
broke  in,  "but  he  is  not  my  man, 
Landry.  Mr.  Landry  is  a  gentleman, 
and  quite  our  equal."  She  didn't 
know  why  she  said  it,  for  she  did 
not  know  anything  about  the  ante 
cedents  of  Landry. 

11  Oh,  beg  pardon,  Miss  Mildred,  I 
might  have  known  that.  Americans 
are  so  eccentric,  you  know.  But 
the  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  I  never 
stopped  to  think  what  Landry  was. 

128 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

I  only  knew  that  he  was  a  fine  fel 
low.  I  was  just  going  to  say  that 
he  loaned  me  his  horse.  Don't  you 
think  she  is  a  fine  animal?  " 

"  She  is ;  and  he  is  so  attached  to 
her  that  I  really  don't  know  what 
he'll  do  without  her." 

"  That 's  right,  and  I  'm  a  selfish 
beast.  I'll  go  straight - 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  you  won't  do  any 
thing  of  the  kind.  He  would  feel 
very  much  .hurt." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can't  help  it.  It 's  not 
fair  to  take  such  a  mount  from  a  fel 
low,"  and  he  was  turning  as  he  spoke. 

"  Please  don't,"  pleaded  Mildred; 
"  please  don't,  for  my  sake.  That  is," 
she  stammered,  "  he  would  never  for 
give  me  for  speaking." 

"  But  he  sha'n't  know  that  you 
have  spoken." 

He  was  looking  at  her  keenly,  and 

9  129 


THE    LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

with,  a  question  in  his  eyes.  She 
blushed  furiously  under  his  gaze,  and 
fingered  her  dress  nervously  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  know,  but  Lan- 
dry,  Mr.  Landry,  is  very  eccentric." 

"  Indeed!  " 

"  Oh,  yes." 

If  he  would  only  stop  looking  at 
her  in  that  way.  She  knew  that  her 
face  was  guilty,  and  that  she  was 
fast  getting  angry  again,  both  with 
herself  and  with  her  inquisitor. 

"  Then  if  you  insist,  I  shall  not 
take  the  horse  back.  I  shall  go  for  a 
spin.  Won't  you  come  with  me?  " 

"I  shall  not  ride  this  morning," 
she  returned. 

"  Is  it  wrong  for  me  to  remind  you 
of  your  promise!  " 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  my  promise, 
but  I  shall  not  ride  this  morning." 
130 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  I  must  bid  you  good-morning, 
then.  I  cannot  lose  the  pleasure  of 
this  horse's  gait,  even  for  so  fair  a 
lady  as  yourself,"  and  laughing,  he 
rode  away,  leaving  her  there,  help 
lessly  embarrassed,  and  with  the 
idea  knocking  at  her  consciousness 
that  she  had  made  something  of  a 
fool  of  herself. 

Landry  found  her  still  sitting  on. 
the  porch  when  he  came  up  a  little 
later.  While  she  would  not  own  it 
to  herself,  the  girl  had  practically 
been  waiting  and  wishing  for  him, 
but  now  she  was  frightened  at  his 
approach. 

"  May  I  sit  down?  "  he  said,  after 
greeting  her. 

" To  be  sure,"  she  answered;  "you 
know  we  are  all  generosity  here. 
We  give  people  our  horses,  and  let 
them  sit  on  their  own  chairs." 

131 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  The  horse  was  nothing,  but  a 
chair  here  is  everything.  I  have 
offended  you.  Won't  you  tell  me 
how,  and  forgive  me?  " 

"  But  you  have  not  offended  me, 
Landry.  Why  should  you  think  so? " 
She  felt  how  deceitful  she  was  even 
as  she  said  it. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  he  said,  humbly; 
"  but  you  turned  your  back  on  me 
yesterday." 

"  It  was  very  rude  of  me,  was  n't 
it?  But  that  was  not  on  account 
of  anything  you  had  done.  I  had 
received  a  letter  —  "  she  hesitated 
"  —  and  it  provoked  me  very  much. 
Of  course,  I  had  no  right  to  take 
it  out  on  you.  But  then,  Landry, 
you  don't  know  women  very  well,  do 
you?  » 

"  I  don't  know  anything  except 
that  I  am  the  happiest  man  on 

132 


THE    LOVE     OF     LAN  DRY 

earth.    Let 's  go  for  a  ride,"  tie  added 
abruptly. 

"  No,  I  don't  want  to  ride  since  you 
have  n't  your  horse." 

"  Then  let 's  walk.  It 's  too  glori 
ous  to  sit  still." 

He  must  have  meant  all  he  said, 
for  his  face  showed  it. 

"  I  '11  walk  with  you ; "  and  she  ran 
into  the  house  to  get  her  hat.  Why 
was  the  day  suddenly  bright  again, 
and  why  were  her  feet  so  light?  It 
was  because  she  had  righted  a  wrong, 
she  soberly  told  herself.  That  was 
the  reason,  too,  that  she  came  out 
singing. 

"  I  Ve  been  so  miserable,"  said 
Landry,  as  they  strolled  along  the 
cactus-dotted  land.  "  I  --  I  -  -  had 
thoughts." 

"  A  very  rare  thing  for  a  young 
man,"  she  answered  laughingly. 
133 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

"But  you  don't  know,"  he  went 
on  gravely;  "  I  wronged  you  greatly 
in  my  mind." 

"  I  knew  what  you  thought,"  she 
said,  ' '  but  you  were  wrong.  I  am 
not  that  kind."  She  had  grown  seri 
ous  in  an  instant. 

"I  might  have  known  that  you 
were  not.  I  was  blind  then,  but  I 
am  wise  now,  and  because  of  my 
wisdom,  I  know  why  Mr.  Heathcote 
has  come  here." 

"  Mr.  Heathcote  is  a  friend  of  the 
family." 

"  Mr.  Heathcote  loves  you,  and  so 
do  I,  and  I  want  to  know  my  fate 
now.  Mildred,  will  you  marry  me?  " 

She  had  known  that  it  was  coming, 
and  yet  it  was  a  great  shock  to  her. 
She  could  not  look  at  him,  as  she 
said  tremulously,  "  I  cannot  marry 
you,  Mr.  Landry." 

134 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"Why  not?"  he  asked  simply. 
"Do  you  love  some  one  else?  '; 

"  You  have  no  right  to  ask  that 
question,  but  I  do  not  mind  answer 
ing  you.  No;  but  I  cannot  marry 
you.  First,  because  I  do  not  love 
you;  why,  I  hardly  know  you." 

"  Then  it  has  meant  nothing  to 
you,  —  our  companionship!  And  it 
meant  so  much  to  me.  You  speak 
of  hardly  knowing  me,  and  yet 
you  have  so  filled  my  heart  and 
life  that  I  can  hardly  think  of  a 
time  when  I  did  not  know  and  love 
you." 

"Oh,  Landry,  please  don't,"  she 
cried  piteously.  "I  did  so  want  to 
be  friends  with  you."  Her  aunt's 
letter,  and  her  aunt's  horror  burned 
into  her  mind  like  a  flame.  She 
stole  a  glance  at  his  face,  and  it  was 
tender,  but  sad,  so  sad. 

135 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

In  the  moment  a  great  hatred  grew 
up  within  her  for  her  aunt,  and  all 
the  conventions  of  her  set  and  kind. 
Even  if  she  had  loved  Landry,  soci 
ety  had  set  a  barrier  between  them. 
Here  was  her  aunt's  cowboy  with  a 
vengeance.  The  humour  of  the  situ 
ation  struck  her,  and  she  burst  out 
laughing.  The  man  looked  at  her 
with  sorrow  and  indignation  in  his 
eyes.  But  in  a  moment  he  under 
stood,  for  she  was  as  quickly  pos 
sessed  by  a  passion  of  tears. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said;  "I  have 
hurt  you.  I  won't  say  any  more 
about  it,  —  now,"  he  added  firmly. 
"Come,  let's  go  back." 

She  did  not  answer ;  she  only  wept 
the  more,  for  she  felt  that  all  she 
loved,  all  she  wanted,  all  that  in  life 
was  worth  having  was  slipping  away 
from  her  grasp,  but  she  could  not 

136 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

check  it.  There  stood  King  Conven 
tion  ;  this  was  his  decree. 

She  dried  her  eyes  as  they  went 
back  toward  the  house,  he  walking 
disconsolately  by  her  side. 

She  turned  to  him  as  they  reached 
the  porch.  "  Landry,"  she  said,  "you 
will  always  be  my  friend!  " 

"  I  shall  always  be  your  friend  and 
lover,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  and 
then  he  turned  away  toward  his  own 
apartment. 

Mildred  hurried  to  her  room  and 
threw  herself  upon  the  bed.  The 
blessed  tears  came  again  to  relieve 
her;  and  then  she  sat  up,  crying 
softly,  for  fear  the  very  walls  would 
hear,  "  Landry,  Landry,  you  are  worth 
some  woman's  love,  but  who  are 
you?  " 


137 


CHAPTER  NINTH 

IT  was  strange  that  in  Landry's 
grief  at  Mildred's  refusal  of  him, 
there  was  no  anger  at  the  girl  herself. 
He  remembered  her  distress  and  her 
tears,  and  felt  only  deep  pity  and  a 
more  overwhelming  love  for  her. 

"  She  loves  no  one  else,  she  said, 
and  I  believe  her,"  Landry  mused 
when  he  was  alone.  "Well,  then, 
why  shouldn't  she  love  me?  She 
doesn't  know  me,  that's  true.  I 
might  be  a  horse-thief  or  a  pick 
pocket  for  all  she  knows  to  the  con 
trary.  She 's  right.  She  has  the 
right  to  know  more  about  me,  and 
I  was  a  blundering  ass  to  ask  her  to 

138 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

take  me  for  granted.  But  can  I  tell 
her  everything!  Can  I  explain  to 
her?  "  A  hard  wrinkle  came  into 
the  man's  brow  as  he  thought,  "The 
secret  is  not  mine  wholly.  But  I 
have  lost  faith  in  humanity  on  ac 
count  of  it ;  now  shall  I  lose  the  love 
of  my  life  for  this  same  reason? 
Great  Q-od!  is  there  no  limit  to 
what  I  must  suffer  —  loss,  ignominy, 
shame,  and  now  this!  r> 

He  clenched  his  hands,  and  the 
great  beads  broke  out  on  his  fore 
head.  Then,  as  was  his  wont  when 
he  wished  to  think,  he  saddled  a 
horse  and  went  galloping  away. 

The  land  was  full  of  the  brisk, 
sweet  smells  of  autumn.  The  plain 
fell  away  in  a  gray,  barren  line  that 
held  up  a  turquoise  dome.  The  lit 
tle  ground-birds,  scarcely  discernible 
against  the  grass,  so  like  themselves, 

139 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

skipped  away  before  his  horse's  feet. 
But  Landry  saw  nothing,  neither 
landscape,  sky,  nor  birds.  He  felt 
nothing,  not  even  the  rush  of  the 
wind  as  he  swept  across  the  prairie. 
Surrounded  by  the  things  which 
he  knew  and  loved  and  was  wont  to 
observe,  he  was  as  utterly  alone  with 
his  own  thoughts  as  if  he  had  sud 
denly  been  lifted  out  of  the  life  of 
this  earth  and  placed  where  there 
were  only  himself  and  his  soul.  He 
was  doubly  isolated,  in  that  his  was 
the  isolation  both  of  great  grief  and 
deep  thought.  On  his  face  were  all 
the  marks  of  the  struggle  that  was 
going  on  within  him.  His  eyes  were 
cold  and  bright  and  his  cheeks 
flushed,  though  his  hands  held  the 
reins  firmly,  and  there  was  not  the 
quiver  of  a  muscle  in  his  face.  Like  a 
man  turned  to  iron,  he  rode  and  rode. 

140 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Every  now  and  then,  unconsciously, 
he  dug  his  heel  into  the  horse's  side, 
as  if,  moving  swiftly  though  he  was, 
he  could  not  keep  pace  with  the 
hard,  hot  gallop  of  his  thoughts.  So 
he  went  for  an  hour,  and  then,  with 
out  warning,  turned  homeward  again. 
The  strained  look  in  his  eyes  was 
gone,  and  his  whole  attitude  was  one 
of  relaxed  force.  But  there  was  still 
on  his  face  the  expression  of  a  man 
who  has  made  a  vital  decision,  and 
who  will  carry  out  his  plan  to  the 
last  extreme.  He  bent  over  and 
stroked  the  horse's  damp  neck. 

"  I  will  do  it,"  he  said.     "  He  shall 
not  take  this  from  me." 

With  him,  when  a  decision  was 
once  made  there  was  no  turning 
back.  As  soon  as  he  reached  his 
room,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  the 
following  letter :  — 
Hi 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

"  DEAR  Miss  MILDRED, —  I  know  now  the 
folly  I  showed  in  asking  you  to  marry  me, 
about  whom  you  know  absolutely  nothing. 
Five  years  ago  I  should  have  known  better, 
but  I  have  been  away  from  civilisation  so 
long  that  I  have  forgotten  some  of  its  de 
mands  and  conventions.  I  had  thought  that 
if  two  people  cared  for  each  other,  that  was 
all,  and  there  were  no  other  questions  to  be 
asked  or  answered.  I  confess  that  I  was 
wrong,  and  that  my  theory  would  only  do  for 
a  more  primitive  state  of  life  than  this  to 
which  you  and  I  belong.  But  I  do  not  blame 
you  because  I  blundered,  and  so,  whether  or 
not  it  affects  the  issue,  I  am  going  to  answer 
the  questions,  which,  if  you  cared  for  me,  you 
must  have  asked. 

"I  remember  that  you  once  repeated  the 
remark  that  people  only  came  out  here  on  ac 
count  of  crime,  cupidity,  or  consumption.  It 
seems  proper  that  the  world  should  usually 
take  it  for  granted  that  the  first  of  these 
most  commonly  drives  a  man  to  this  life. 
But  it  was  not  so  in  my  case.  At  least,  I  am 
142 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

not  a  criminal.  The  story  is  a  long  one,  and 
I  should  prefer  telling  it  to  you  to  writing  it. 
I  should  beg  your  permission  to  do  so,  except 
that  when  I  talk  to  you  I  lose  my  head,  and 
say  the  things  that  I  do  not  want  to  say. 

"  The  secret  which  I  disclose  here  is  not, 
as  you  will  see,  entirely  my  own,  and  I  need 
not  ask  in  mercy  to  all  concerned  that  it  go 
no  further  than  the  ear  of  your  father,  who 
also  has  the  right  to  know. 

"  In  the  first  place,  my  name  is  not  Landry, 
that  is,  it  is  not  my  surname,  but  my  mother's 
name,  by  which  I  choose  to  be  known  out 
here.  My  full  name  is  Landry  Thayer,  and 
I  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  twenty-eight 
years  ago.  My  mother  died  when  I  was 
young,  and  all  my  boyish  love  was  given  to 
my  elder  brother,  John,  and  to  my  father. 
My  first  great  grief  came  with  the  death  of 
the  latter,  who  had  always  been  a  tender  and 
indulgent  parent  to  me. 

"  I  mourned  for  him  sincerely,  but  the  buoy 
ancy  of  youth  soon  overcame  my  sorrow  and 
I  turned  to  my  brother,  now  all  that  was  left 
143 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

to  me,  with  the  whole  wealth  of  my  affection. 
He  loved  me  in  return ;  and  so  it  was  a  great 
wrench  when,  finishing  my  course  in  the  city 
schools,  I  went  away  to  the  Massachusetts 
Institute  of  Technology.  We  were  wealthy. 
My  brother  managed  the  estates  but  I  had 
my  ambition.  I  was  determined  to  be  one  of 
the  world's  workers,  and  engineering  took  my 
fancy.  I  wanted  to  build  bridges.  I  wanted 
to  dig  tunnels.  I  am  making  irrigation  ditches 
now  ;  but  even  that  is  part  of  my  plan.  You 
will  laugh  at  this,  won't  you  ?  But  it 's 
straight. 

"Well,  before  I  left  for  school,  I  noticed 
that  my  brother  cared  for,  or  seemed  to  care 
for,  a  very  beautiful,  frivolous  girl  who  was  at 
that  time  dominating  Philadelphia  society,  and 
who  had  a  dozen  men  in  her  train.  I  did  not 
like  her,  and  told  my  brother  so.  He  flew 
into  a  fury,  called  me  an  impudent  young 
cub,  and  bade  me  never  speak  her  name  again. 
On  my  knees  and  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  I 
begged  his  forgiveness.  I  was  younger  then. 
He  barely  forgave  me,  and  with  a  sore  heart 
144 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

I  went  to  school.  One  day  I  received  a  card 
that  cut  me  like  a  knife,  and  when  I  came 
back  he  was  married. 

"I  hated  her  ;  with  all  my  heart  I  hated  her. 
She  had  taken  from  me  all  that  I  had  —  my 
brother.  He  was  cold  and  stern  with  me 
now,  where  he  had  always  been  loving  and 
kind  before.  Well,  I  suppose  that  I  was  a 
young  fool,  and  precipitated  matters,  but  I  did 
not  exert  myself  to  be  agreeable  to  my  sister- 
in-law.  After  a  while  she  told  my  brother 
that  I  was  a  sullen  young  fellow,  and  made 
her  very  unhappy.  The  result  was  another 
scene,  and  my  brother,  who  I  believe,  loved 
his  wife  sincerely,  forbade  me  the  house, 
which  he,  as  the  elder,  had  inherited. 

"  He  packed  me  out,  bag  and  baggage,  and 
I  went  into  lodgings ;  but  still  I  did  not 
blame  him,  and  even  when  I  went  back  to 
school,  I  only  felt  that  I  was  a  jealous  young 
fool,  who  deserved  my  brother's  anger ;  and 
God  knows  I  was  jealous,  for  his  had  been 
the  only  love  outside  a  father's  that  I  had 
ever  known.  At  college  there  was  an  allow- 
10  145 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

ance  ample  for  all  my  wants,  for  I  was  not 
extravagant.  All  went  well,  and  I  grew  en 
thusiastic  over  my  work.  It  is  a  great  work, 
after  all.  I  was  looking  forward  with  joy  to  my 
Christmas  vacation,  when  I  could  go  home  and 
be  reconciled  to  him.  It  was  then  the  blow  fell 
upon  me.  I  received  a  letter  from  him,  my 
brother,  my  only  one,  saying :  '  Since  things 
are  as  they  are,  would  it  not  be  better  if 
we  do  not  meet?  So  I  would  be  glad  if  you 
spent  your  vacations  from  home/  You  do  not 
know  how  it  hurt  me.  Even  now  I  feel  the 
terrible  searing  of  it.  My  brother,  my  own 
brother  turned  against  me,  and  asking  me  not 
to  come  to  my  father's  house  !  I  had  thought 
the  other  disagreement  only  temporary,  but 
this  was  final. 

"  I  was  proud,  and  I  did  not  go  back,  nor 
did  I  write  to  him.  Occasionally,  in  the 
papers,  I  saw  reports  of  the  magnificence  of 
his  entertainments,  and  I  was  glad,  for  I  loved 
and  trusted  him  still,  though  I  hated  her. 

"Then  I  heard  that  he  had  sailed  for 
Europe.  I  was  glad,  because  he  had  always 
146 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

wanted  to  see  the  wonders  of  the  old  world. 
4  John  has  gone  away,'  I  told  my  chum ;  '  I  'm 
glad,  because  he  always  wanted  to  see  the 
things  over  there.' 

"  4  It 's  a  pity,'  said  my  chum  ;  '  I  'm  sorry 
for  his  wife.' 

"  I  need  not  say  what  I  did  to  Jack  Alston ; 
only,  since  he  knows  that  I  did  not  know  then, 
he  has  forgiven  me  and  writes  to  me  now,  and 
I  love  him.  He  is  building  a  bridge  some 
where. 

"  After  Jack  had  given  me  this  cue,  I  went 
and  looked  further.  The  papers  said  that  my 
brother  had  left  suddenly,  without  his  wife, 
and  that  there  were  rumors  of  irregularities 
in  his  handling  of  my  father's  estate. 

"  They  were  lies,  all  lies,  and  I  knew  it ;  so 
I  rushed  home  to  refute  them.  In  my  father's 
house,  at  the  door  out  of  which  I  had  seen 
carried  the  man  who  had  fathered  us  both,  I 
met  that  woman. 

"  '  Oh,  it 's  you,'  she  said,  when  the  servant 
had  taken  her  my  card.  'It's  awful  about 
John,  isn't  it?  Not  a  thing  left.' 

"  '  You  're  a  liar,  you  're  a  liar ! '  I  cried, 
147 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

1  —  and  a  thief  too,  and  a  murderess ! '    And  I 
flung  out  of  the  hall,  and  down  the  steps. 

" '  Heavens,  the  man  is  mad ! '  I  heard  her 
say  as  I  was  going. 

"  But  the  rest  is  hardly  worth  the  telling. 
My  brother  had  gone  from  one  excess  to  an 
other,  entertaining,  speculating,  until  he  had 
been  tempted  to  touch  what  was  not  his. 
Then  my  fortune,  — I  blessed  him  for  sparing 
me  so  long  —  had  gone  to  make  up  the  de 
ficiency.  Then  he  had  left.  Out  of  all  my 
father's  estate,  save  what  that  woman  had,  there 
were  scarcely  five  thousand  dollars  left.  I 
could  not  stand  the  grief  of  it.  She  showed  me 
a  letter  from  him  saying  that  had  I  not  proved 
ungrateful,  —  ungrateful  !  —  it  would  have 
been  better.  I  do  not  believe  he  wrote  it  now. 

"  With  this,  and  the  money  that  I  had  left, 
I  came  West  because  I  could  not  bear  the 
sight  and  sound  of  the  things  that  had  driven 
my  brother  to  crime.  They  did  drive  him. 
They  did  drive  him,  for  I  knew  him  when  he 
was  square.  A  year  later  I  heard  that  he 
was  dead,  —  had  shot  himself  at  Monaco.  His 
widow  is  married. 

148 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  That  is  why  I  hate  civilisation,  and  you 
are  the  first  one  who  has  ever  called  me  back 
to  it.  Do  not  judge  my  brother  too  harshly . 
he  was  not  so  much  to  blame  as  the  devilish, 
deceitful,  strenuous  civilisation  that  drove 
him  to  his  death. 

"  With  the  little  money,  I  have  prospered 
some.  Cripple  Creek  was  kind  to  me,  and 
this  ranch  calls  me  one  of  its  masters.  Mil 
dred,  darling,  you  know  my  story.  Forgive 
me  if  I  have  given  you  more  than  usual  of  — 

"  LANDRY." 

This  letter  Mildred  received  next 
morning  from  the  hand  of  Tod.  She 
dropped  her  tears  upon  it  as  she 
read.  Then  she  arose  and  went  to 
her  father. 

"Papa/7  she  said,  "  Landry  has 
proposed  to  me,  and  I  — " 

"Landry!" 

"  —  and  I  refused  him ;  here  is  his 
letter." 

149 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

The  old  man  got  up,  the  colour  in 
his  face  rising  in  anticipation,  as  it 
were,  of  occasion. 

"  Why-  •"  Then  he  began  to  read 
the  letter.  As  he  read,  the  anger  died 
from  his  face  and  the  tear-drops  fell 
on  his  ruddy,  wrinkled  cheeks.  They 
fell  as  freely  as  the  girl's. 

"Do  you  love  him?':  he  asked, 
when  he  had  finished. 

"No,"  answered  Mildred,  firmly; 
and  then,  "I  don't  think  I  do." 

"  I  am  almost  sorry,"  said  her 
father,  "for  Landry — ah!  --Landry 
is  a  very  big  man;  but  I  suppose 
it's  Heathcote.  Well- 

"  Heathcote!'  snapped  Mildred, 
"I  hate  Heathcote!"  and  she  swept 
from  the  room. 

"  She  hates  Heathcote!  "  said  Mr. 
Osborne.  "  What  a  remarkable  girl ! 
Yesterday  it  was  Landry." 

150 


CHAPTER  TENTH 

FOR  some  reason  or  other,  quite 
unrelated  to  love,  Mildred  had 
cried  herself  to  sleep  over  Landry's 
letter.  She  thought  it  was  because 
she  pitied  him  in  his  sorrow.  When 
they  met  again  she  told  him  so,  and 
he  was  more  miserable  than  ever, 
because  she  gave  him  pity  when  he 
wanted  love. 

They  tried  to  resume  their  old  re 
lations,  but  utterly  without  success. 
There  was  always  between  them  a 
subtle  embarrassment,  the  shadow 
of  his  refusal. 

So  the  days  went  by  until  the 
time  for  the  round-up.  Landry 

151 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

kept  his  promise  to  Mildred,  and 
saw  that  arrangements  were  made 
for  her  to  ride  out  to  see  the  cattle 
when  they  were  to  be  driven  down 
into  the  valley.  Heathcote  had 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  ride  with 
the  men,  and  permission  had  been 
granted  to  him.  He  was  as  happy 
as  a  boy,  although  he  had  sacrificed 
his  own  inclination  and  forced  Lan- 
dry  to  take  back  his  horse  for  the 
work. 

It  was  noon  of  a  Monday  when  the 
men  set  out  for  the  broad  valley  into 
which  the  cattle  were  to  be  driven 
down  from  the  ranges.  With  Heath- 
cote,  there  were  eleven  of  them  in 
all,  -  -  brawny,  raw-boned  fellows, 
bronzed  by  the  sun  and  wind,  hard 
riders,  hard  swearers,  but  faithful  to 
their  duty  and  fearless  in  the  dis 
charge  of  it.  It  was  near  evening 

152 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

when  they  reached  their  destination. 
The  horses  were  unharnessed  from 
the  grub-wagon  as  soon  as  it  came 
up  with  them,  and  after  supper  they 
camped  for  the  night,  resting  for  the 
next  day's  riding. 

They  were  up  the  following  morn 
ing,  and  with  three  men  left  at  camp, 
were  away  into  the  hills.  All  day 
long  they  rode  the  ranges,  cleaning 
them  out  as  with  a  great  ever-moving 
comb,  and  the  cattle  streamed  down 
into  the  valley.  It  was  an  all-day 
undertaking,  and  not  yet  done  when 
Mildred  came  in  the  evening.  The 
buck-board  brought  her  and  her 
father,  and  her  pony  Jack  trotted 
behind.  It  was  a  wonderful  sight  to 
her,  and  she  was  much  grieved  that 
Landry  insisted  upon  her  and  her 
father's  camping  so  far  away  from  the 
herd  that  night.  It  seemed  to  make 

153 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

of  them  only  spectators,  when  she 
wished  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  it. 
But  Landry  knew,  as  she  did  not, 
the  words  of  the  songs  the  cowboy 
sings  as  he  gallops  by  night  round 
and  round  his  cattle. 

Stirred  with  the  novelty  of  the 
situation,  Mildred  was  up  in  the 
morning  with  the  earliest  of  them. 
It  was  a  glorious  day;  all  golden- 
browns,  yellows,  and  blues.  The 
mist  hung  heavy  over  the  moun 
tains,  but  for  miles  along  the  plain 
the  air  was  as  clear  as  the  water  of 
a  mountain  stream.  It  was  one  of 
those  hot  days  which  come  to  Colo 
rado  even  as  late  as  November.  It 
was  very  still,  save  for  the  calling 
of  the  men  one  to  another  as  the 
drove  of  cattle,  eight  hundred  strong, 
went  milling  round  and  round  the 
valley.  All  the  night  before,  the  men 

154 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

had  circled  the  herd,  singing  their 
interminable  songs  to  reassure  them. 
But  to-day  the  animals  were  nervous. 
The  smell  of  water  in  the  bottom  of 
a  dry  wash,  which  ran  across  the  end 
of  the  valley  at  its  entrance,  made 
them  restive,  and  every  now  and 
then  one  would  break  away  and 
dash  forward,  only  to  be  followed 
by  one  of  the  boys  and  driven  back 
to  his  fellows.  They  snorted  and 
bellowed  and  pushed  one  upon  the 
other.  Their  horns  crashed  and 
waved,  a  short,  bristling,  terrible 
forest,  and  their  brown  or  brindled 
sides  gleamed  in  the  sun.  It  was 
hard  work  keeping  them  together. 

To  the  front  and  left  of  the  churn 
ing  herd  Landry  was  riding,  his  face 
gloomy  and  sad.  Behind  him,  on 
the  same  side,  rode  Heathcote,  while 
directly  opposite,  on  her  favourite 

155 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

pony,  was  Mildred.  Near  her  Lan- 
dry  had  placed  a  cowboy,  to  see  that 
no  ill  came  to  her. 

He  looked  uneasily  across  at  Mil 
dred  and  then  glanced  at  the  nervous 
steers. 

"I  wish  she  hadn't  come,"  he 
muttered.  "It's  the  day  and  the 
place  for  a  nasty  stampede."  A  big 
steer  far  to  the  front  bellowed  and 
sniffed  the  air.  Landry  rode  quickly 
forward,  and  the  long  thong  of  his 
quirt  curled  about  the  great  fellow's 
neck,  and  the  column  moved  on  as 
before.  It  was  nearly  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  while  some  of 
the  men  were  busy  keeping  the  cattle 
from  breaking  away,  others  were  pre 
paring  to  cut  out  the  beef  steers  for 
shipping  and  the  late  calves  for 
branding. 

A  wind  sprang  up,  and  it  seemed 

156 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

that  the  heat  of  the  atmosphere  was 
about  to  abate.  Landry  breathed 
freer,  and  again  his  glance  wandered 
over  to  the  girl  he  loved.  He  caught 
her  eye  and  she  smiled  at  him.  He 
felt  as  if  she  had  laid  a  cooling  hand 
upon  his  brow. 

Mildred  was  a  spectacle  to  call  forth 
the  admiration  of  a  man  who  loved 
her  even  less  than  did  Landry.  Her 
gray  habit  fitted  snugly  her  girlish 
form,  and  a  soft  felt  hat  with  an 
eagle  feather  on  the  side,  sat  jauntily 
on  her  brown  head.  She  was  joyous 
with  the  movement  and  life  about 
her,  and  glad  with  a  feeling  of  suffi 
ciency  which  came  to  her  as  she 
turned  her  pony  this  way  and  that. 

Her  father  had  felt  some  misgiv 
ings  about  her  coming,  but  she  had 
pleaded  so  hard,  and  had  looked  so 
beautiful  as  she  begged,  that  he  had 

157 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

kissed  her  and  told  her  to  go,  while 
he  remained  with  the  grub-wagon 
not  far  away.  He  knew  that  with 
two  such  protectors  as  Landry  and 
Heathcote  she  could  hardly  come  to 
harm. 

She  was  going  gaily  along,  and 
the  glow  on  her  face  made  Laiidry's 
heart  leap.  Then,  in  a  second,  it  all 
happened.  A  bunch  of  steers  broke 
away  toward  the  water.  One  by  one 
of  the  ringing  multitude  joined  them, 
until  in  a  few  minutes  the  whole 
herd  had  joined  in  the  wild  rush 
toward  the  box-canon. 

"Stampeded!"  was  the  one  word 
that  Mildred's  cowboy  protector  ex 
pelled  from  his  lips  as  he  galloped 
away  from  her  side.  The  cattle  were 
racing  like  mad  down  the  valley, 
making  a  seething  caldron  of  bub 
bling  backs. 

158 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

The  girl  saw  what  had  happened. 
Her  face  went  white.  But  a  sudden 
thought  took  her,  and  digging  her 
heel  into  the  pony's  side,  with  set 
face  she  went  flying  after  the  mad 
dened  steers,  bending  steadily  to  the 
right.  She  had  heard  that  in  such  a 
case  the  thing  to  do  was  first  to  try 
and  turn  them,  and  then  to  get  the 
cattle  milling,  and  she  felt  that  sha 
herself  might  help  to  do  it.  But  the 
cattle-men,  all  forgetful  of  her,  had 
swept  round  to  the  left  of  the  herd 
and  were  trying  to  turn  them  to  the 
right;  for  they  knew  just  how  far 
back  lay  the  deep  dry  run,  and  what 
it  meant  if  their  raging  charges 
reached  that.  They  had  seen  such 
sights  before ;  when  the  cattle,  which 
made  their  life  and  the  existence  of 
the  ranch  possible,  went  headlong 
into  the  steep  cut  and  piled  one 

159 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

upon  the  other,  a  groaning,  bellow 
ing,  quivering  mass  of  struggling 
flesh.  They  had  seen  the  cut  filled 
until  the  rear  guard  of  the  herd  had 
passed  over  on  a  bridge  of  their  dead 
fellows.  So  it  was  no  wonder  that 
they  forgot  the  girl,  and  went  gallop 
ing  wildly  to  the  left  of  the  throng. 
Even  Heathcote  became  infected 
with  the  insanity  of  the  men  around 
him,  and  the  terrible  whirl  of  the 
whole  scene.  He  put  whip  and  spur 
to  his  horse  and  swept  on  with  them. 
On,  on  they  went,  to  the  left,  bear 
ing  the  enraged  steers  to  the  right, 
turning  them  ever  from  the  ditch  of 
death.  But  Mildred,  unconscious  of 
what  they  were  doing,  only  knowing 
and  feeling  the  thought  that  domi 
nated  her  own  soul,  raced  up  behind 
the  herd,  still  bearing  to  the  right, 
and  on  to  her  death.  Let  the  steers 

160 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

but  turn  and  they  would  sweep  over 
her,  and  she  would  be  as  utterly  lost 
as  a  scrap  of  paper  in  the  mad  breath 
of  the  cyclone.  Only  one  gray-faced 
man  took  in  the  situation.  Landry 
had  started  with  the  men,  but  two 
hundred  yards  down  the  valley  he 
saw  her,  and  for  the  time  that  the 
glance  took  him,  his  heart  stood  still. 
"My  God!  "  he  cried,  "what  is  the 
girl  doing?"  And  then,  without 
further  time  for  thought,  he  cut 
straight  across  to  the  right,  behind 
the  herd,  and  went  racing  after  her. 
It  was  only  a  matter  of  time,  a  trial 
of  speed  between  him  and  the  pony 
she  rode,  a  race  between  Love  and 
Death.  Down  the  valley  the  girl 
rode,  and  he  after  her.  The  distance 
between  them  was  wide,  for  he  had 
to  cross  the  whole  width  of  the  herd, 
but  he  felt  himself  gaming  at  every 

11  161 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

leap  of  the  roan  mare's  brawny  legs. 
Then  did  he  thank  God  that  Heath- 
cote  had  given  him  back  his  own 
good  mount.  No  other  horse  could 
have  done  it,  could  have  overtaken 
the  lithe  little  pony  galloping  so 
madly  ahead.  "  Great  God !  "  he  said, 
"  will  they  yet  have  time  to  turn  be 
fore  I  reach  her?  "  and  he  called  to 
his  horse  with  a  prayer  that  was  half 
an  oath.  The  brown  prairie  burned 
under  the  roan's  feet.  Mildred  did 
not  look  back.  She  rode  as  one  rides 
who  has  a  purpose,  and  that  purpose 
quickly  to  be  accomplished.  They 
were  nearing  the  cut  now.  He  could 
see  a  straggly  tree  or  two  which 
grew  upon  its  sides.  "  Mildred,  Mil 
dred  !  '  he  cried  out,  but  the  wind 
blew  his  voice  behind  him  and 
laughed  in  his  face.  Then  Landry 
swore  deeply,  and  the  next  moment 
162 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

uttered  a  prayer  to  Heaven,  and 
struck  his  horse  until  the  spurs  drew 
blood  from  her  foaming  sides.  On, 
on,  they  pressed  the  cattle  on  the 
left.  The  roan  flew,  and  Landry  was 
gasping  and  his  breath  came  hard 
between  shut  teeth.  His  eyes  were 
wild  as  he  came  nearer,  nearer.  They 
were  turning  now,  and  there  were  a 
hundred  yards  between  them.  He 
swept  up  and  stretched  out  his  hand 
for  the  pony's  bridle;  but  just  then 
the  deep  hole  of  a  prairie  dog  reached 
out  and  caught  the  pony's  off  forefoot. 
He  stumbled.  Mildred  swayed  in  her 
saddle.  Landry 's  hand  forgot  the 
goal  to  which  it  had  started  as  he 
rode  up  to  her  side.  He  threw  his 
arm  around  her  waist  and  dragged 
her  willy-nilly  from  her  saddle,  throw 
ing  her  rudely,  but  safe,  across  the 
pommel  of  his  own.  Then  his  knees 

163 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

pressed  the  sides  of  the  roan  mare, 
and  she,  obedient,  turned  sharply  to 
the  right.  They  were  just  in  time. 
Mildred's  pony  floundered  and  at 
tempted  to  rise.  Just  then  the  herd 
swerved  suddenly  further  to  the  right, 
and  in  a  moment  the  little  beast  who 
had  so  lately  borne  the  girl  was 
beaten  beneath  a  hundred  hoofs. 

With  tears  of  excitement  in  his 
eyes,  and  curses  of  pure  joy  that 
took  the  place  of  prayers  and  thanks 
givings  on  his  lips,  Landry  slowed 
his  horse  and  rode  back  toward  the 
grub-wagon.  He  looked  down  into 
Mildred's  face.  It  was  white  as 
death  itself  could  have  painted  it; 
she  had  fainted.  He  bent  above  her, 
and  a  groan  forced  itself  from  the 
depths  of  his  very  soul.  "  I  have 
hurt  her,"  he  cried,  "but  she  will 
live,  she  will  live,  thank  God !  " 

164 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

He  rode  as  swiftly  as  he  could 
back  to  the  wagon  where  her  father 
was  waiting.  Mr.  Osborne  saw  them 
coming,  Mildred  lying  as  one  dead 
across  the  saddle.  He  rose,  pale 
and  trembling,  as  Landry  drew  up. 
"  What  have  you  done  to  my  child  I  " 
he  said  in  a  voice  so  low  that  it  was 
scarcely  audible. 

"  I  have  brought  her  back  to  you," 
said  Landry ;  "  she  is  hurt  a  little,  but 
she  is  safe.  Take  her;  "  and  putting 
the  girl  into  her  father's  arms,  he 
turned  his  horse  and  went  swiftly 
back  to  his  duty. 

With  the  help  of  the  drivers  the 
grub-wagon  was  cleared,  and  Mildred 
was  laid  on  a  bed  made  of  the  men's 
coats.  Nina  was  wringing  her  hands 
in  the  excess  of  helpless  grief,  but 
Hendrickson,  who  had  seen  it  all, 
rode  up,  knowing  and  helpful.  Her 
165 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

shoulder  was  wrenched.  It  was  not 
a  great  affair,  and  he  set  himself  at 
once  to  put  it  in  place  and  to  band 
age  it. 

"It  is  not  so  much/'  he  said  to 
Mr.  Osborne;  "  she  is  greatly  shaken 
up,  but  she  is  young  and  will  soon  be 
well." 

But  the  old  man  only  bent  above 
his  daughter,  crying,  "  Oh,  Mildred ! 
Mildred!  have  I  brought  you  out 
here  for  this!  ' 

On  the  girl's  face  there  was  no 
sign  of  life,  but  the  set  expression 
still  lay  about  her  lips.  "Will  she 
live?  "  asked  Mr.  Osborne. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Hendrickson,  "  she 
will  live ;  she  is  not  greatly  hurt.  It 
will  be  a  little  painful,  but  she  will 
live." 

"  If  she  recovers  from  this  I  shall 
take  her  home  at  once,"  her  father 

166 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

said,  his  anger  at  himself  growing 
that  he  had  allowed  her  to  run  into 
such  great  danger. 

"She  is  a  brave  young  woman," 
said  Hendrickson.  "  I  am  glad  that 
Landry  saw  her  in  time.7' 

"Landry!  Landry!  he  has  saved 
my  daughter  to  me.  I  wonder  what 
I  can  do  to  reward  him." 

The  big  ranch-manager  smiled. 
"  I  think  your  daughter  will  know 
better  than  you,"  he  said. 

Osborne  looked  at  him  dully,  as  if 
hardly  comprehending.  "  He  is  a 
big  fellow,"  he  said;  " I  have  always 
told  her  so." 

Mildred's  eyelids  fluttered  with  re 
turning  consciousness. 


167 


CHAPTER  ELEVENTH 

WHEN  Mildred  regained  con 
sciousness  she  found  herself 
lying  in  the  grub-wagon,  with  Nina 
beside  her.  The  wagon  had  been 
substituted  for  the  buck-board,  as 
being  easier  for  her  to  recline  in. 

"  What  has  happened,  Nina!  "  she 
asked.  "  I  remember  about ^the  stam 
pede,  and —  and  —  Mr.  Landry;  but 
was  I  hurt,  was  I  injured  in  anyway? ' ' 

"  Not  unto  death,  miss,7'  said  Nina, 
solemnly;  "but  Mr.  Hendrickson, 
he  says  your  shoulder 's  out  o'  place, 
an'  while  you  was  insensible  he  set 
it,  an'  he  says  you'll  soon  be  all 
right.  But  the  pony,  oh,  miss,  you 
should  see  the  pony!  r> 

"  It  was  killed?  " 
168 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 


"  Ah,  Miss  Mildred,  killed  was  no 
name  for  it.  It  was  pulverized/7 

"  What  are  they  going  to  do  with 
me  now!  "  asked  the  girl,  a  shudder 
passing  over  her  frame  at  the  thought 
of  the  poor  animal. 

"  They  're  going  to  start  to  the 
ranch-house  with  you  as  soon  as  you 
dare  move." 

"  Tell  them,  Nina,  that  I  want  to 
see  the  spot;  don't  say  pony,  what 
ever  you  do,  —  the  spot  where  it 
occurred." 

Nina  went  upon  her  errand  and 
Mildred  settled  back  with  tears  of 
pain  and  humiliation  in  her  eyes. 

"I  wanted  to  do  something  big 
because  I  felt  strong  and  capable; 
and  I  knew  he  looked  at  me  with 
contempt ;  and,  oh !  how  it  has  turned 
out !  It  only  leaves  me  his  debtor  — 
his  debtor,"  and  with  repetition  the 

169 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

thought  did  not  seem  so  bitter. 
"  Well,  he  did  his  part ;  he  was  very 
brave  and  noble.  Even  if  I  cannot 
love  him,  I  can  respect  him." 

Then  her  father  put  his  anxious 
face  in  at  the  door.  "  So  you  've 
come  around  all  right,  my  dear? 
Hendrickson  said  you  would.  Really, 
he  's  quite  a  surgeon.  Are  you  in 
much  pain?  " 

' l  My  shoulder  does  hurt  very  much, 
papa,  but  that  doesn't  matter.  I  'm 
sorry  I  gave  you  so  much  anxiety." 

"Don't  say  a  word,  my  child;  I 
shall  have  you  taken  back  at  once 
to  the  ranch-house.  But  Nina  tells 
me  that  you  want  to  see  the  spot 
where  the  accident  occurred.  I  don't 
believe  I  would  if  I  were  you,  my 
dear.7' 

"  I  want  to  see  it,  papa,  and  if  they 
cannot  take  me  I  shall  walk." 

170 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  There,  there,  don't  excite  your 
self,  my  child ;  you  shall  see  it.  We 
will  go  by  it  on  our  way  home." 

He  signalled  to  the  men,  and  one 
galloped  ahead,  while  the  other 
started  the  horses  which  had  been 
harnessed  to  the  wagon,  to  await  any 
turn  which  Mildred's  injury  might 
take. 

As  Nina  sat  down  beside  her  mis 
tress,  Mildred's  face  flushed  and  paled 
by  turns,  and  she  looked  into  the 
maid's  eyes  wistfully. 

"  What  is  it,  Miss  Mildred?  "  asked 
Nina,  gently. 

"  Nothing,"  snapped  Mildred,  going 
all  red  again;  "did  I  ask  for  any 
thing?  " 

"  No,  miss,  but  I  thought  you  looked 
like  you  wanted  something." 

"  No,"  she  replied  more  gently,"  but 
my  shoulder  does  hurt  so." 

171 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  You  poor,  dear  child !  "  said  Nina, 
easing  the  wounded  part. 

"  I  hope,"  Mildred  went  on,  "  that 
poor  Mr.  Landry  isn't  suffering  this 
way.7' 

Deceitful  is  the  human  heart,  but 
it 's  the  eye  that  usually  gives  it  away ; 
and  so  Nina  saw  nothing,  for  at  that 
moment  her  mistress'  eyes  were  closed 
in  a  spasm  of  pain. 

"  La,  miss!  "  she  exclaimed,  "him 
a-sufferin"?  Why,  he  was  n't  hurt  at 
all!  " 

The  eyes  suddenly  flew  open,  al 
most  too  suddenly  for  honesty,  and 
the  sufferer  cried  eagerly,  "  Was  n't 
he?  oh,  I'm  so  glad!  ';  And  then  a 
tell-tale  look  came  into  her  eyes,  and 
they  were  closed  again  in  pain. 

When  the  wagon  had  stopped  at 
the  spot  to  which  Mildred  indicated 
she  wished  to  go,  she  raised  the  flap 
172 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

with  her  uninjured  hand  and  looked 
out  of  the  opening.  There  was  noth 
ing  there,  except  the  marks  of  many 
hoofs  and  a  space  covered  with  grass 
and  sage. 

She  knew  at  once  what  it  was. 

"  Uncover  it/'  she  said. 

"No,  no,  Mildred,"  protested  her 
father.  He  had  sent  the  man  on  for 
that  purpose,  knowing  what  the  sight 
would  be. 

"  I  want  to  see  him,"  she  persisted. 

"  But  miss/'  said  the  man  who  had 
ridden  on  ahead,  "it  ain't  a  pleasant 
sight  for  a  young  lady." 

"  That 's  why  I  want  to  see  it." 

"Mildred!  " 

"Papa,  must  I  get  out  and  do  it 
myself!  " 

Mr.  Osborne  nodded  to  the  men, 
and  they  began  to  uncover  the  flat, 
soft  something  that  had  once  been 

173 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

the  pony.  The  hoofs  of  eight  hun 
dred  cattle  had  beaten  its  flesh  almost 
into  the  soil.  Mildred  gazed  at  it. 
"And  I  should  have  been  like  that/' 
she  said.  "  Thank  you.  Come,  papa ; " 
and  she  lay  down  again,  very  white. 
"  Poor  pony !  poor  little  Jack !  I 
rode  him  to  his  death,  but  I  hope 
his  spirit  will  forgive  me,  for  I  did  n't 
mean  to.  I  wonder  if  horses  have 
souls  or  spirits!  "  she  asked  Nina  a 
bit  later. 

And  Nina  answered,  "  I  'm  sure 
I  don't  know,  miss,  never  havin' 
studied  such  things." 

As  soon  as  they  were  back  at  the 
ranch-house,  where  much  ado  was 
made  both  of  Mildred  and  of  the 
event  of  the  morning,  Mr.  Osborne 
came  into  his  daughter's  room  to  see 
if  she  needed  anything  beyond  Nina's 
ministrations. 

174 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"Papa,"  she  asked,  "Mr.  Landry 
was  very  brave  to-day,  wasn't  he? ' 

"  Not  only  brave,  but  decisive,  my 
dear;  a  moment's  delay  would  have 
lost  you  to  me  forever.  That  man 
has  the  making  of  a  general  in  him." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"  Mildred,  my  child,  you  speak  of 
it  so  apathetically.  The  man  saved 
your  life,  and  I  want  you  to  thank 
him  with  all  your  heart." 

"  I  was  just  going  to  suggest  some 
thing  of  the  kind.  Send  him  to  me 
as  soon  as  he  comes.  Remember, 
papa,  as  soon  as  he  comes." 

"Yes,  my  dear." 

"  And  now  I  'm  going  to  try  to 
sleep." 

She  closed  her  eyes  until  her  father 
had  left  the  room,  then  she  opened 
them  very  wide,  and  lay  gazing  into 
space. 

175 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

"  Poor  Jack !  ':  she  sighed,  "  and 
poor  Landry !  One  I  killed  and  the 
other  I  wounded.  Well,  I  shall  see 
him  to-morrow." 

But  it  was  three  days  before  Lan 
dry  saw  her ;  for  when  the  message 
came,  he  was  still  away  with  the 
cattle,  and  the  captain  of  the  round 
up  could  not,  or  would  not,  spare 
him. 

When  he  arrived  and  came  into 
her  room  she  was  sitting  at  her  win 
dow,  and  rose  to  greet  him.  One 
arm  was  in  a  sling,  but  she  extended 
the  well  hand  to  him. 

"  It  was  good  of  you  to  come,"  she 
said,  and  she  felt  just  how  flat 
and  commonplace  the  words  must 
sound. 

"  I  could  not  do  otherwise,"  said 
Landry,  a  little  stiffly ;  although,  after 
he  had  dropped  her  hand  his  own 

176 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

had  gripped  convulsively  as  he  looked 
upon  her  pain. 

"I  —  I  —  went  up  to  see  the  pony. 
Oh!"  She  put  her  hand  over  her 
face  as  if  to  shut  out  the  sight. 

Landry  flushed  angrily. 

"  Who  was  fool  enough  to  take  you 
up  there?  "  he  said. 

"  I  made  them,"  she  answered. 

"  I  would  rather  you  had  n't  seen 
it.  It  wasn't  a  pretty  sight." 

"But  it  was  an  instructive  one. 
It  told  me  what  I  would  have  been 
like  had  you  let  my  folly  take  its 


course.7 


"  I  don't  know  about  that.  I  guess 
you  were  all  right." 

"  It  told  me,  too,  what  you  had 
done  for  me." 

"That  was  nothing;  any  fellow 
that  knew  anything  about  horses  and 
cattle  —  " 

12  177 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

She  waved  him  into  silence,  and  he 
stood  abashed,  holding  his  hat  like  a 
scolded  schoolboy. 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  she  said;  "  but 
what  I  want  you  to  understand  is 
that  it  was  not  all  wantonness  on 
my  part,  my  galloping  after  them  as 
I  did.  No,  hear  me  out,  for  you  can 
not,  do  not  understand.  After  I  saw 
that  they  had  stampeded,  I  suddenly 
remembered  what  you  had  once  told 
me  of  the  method  to  be  pursued,  and 
I  was  possessed  with  the  idea  of  help 
ing  to  do  it,  so  I  raced  after  them  in 
hopes  that  I  could  turn  them,  or  start 
them  —  what  do  you  call  it?  — grind 
ing  or  ringing. 

A  shade  of  a  smile  came  into  the 
man's  eyes,  but  his  lip  quivered  with 
a  deeper  emotion,  and  the  impulse 
was  very  strong  upon  him  to  take 
the  poor  little  wounded  girl  into  his 

178 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

arms  and  strain  her  to  his  breast. 
But  he  remembered  Thursday,  and 
held  himself  back. 

"  Your  ambition  was  very  noble, 
Miss  Mildred,"  he  said;  and  it 
sounded  very  mean  to  him  after  it 
was  out,  though,  "  God  knows,"  he 
told  himself,  "  I  did  not  intend  it  so." 

"It  was  very  foolish  and  reckless," 
Mildred  went  on;  "but  then,  I  did 
so  want  to  see  a  round-up,  and  when 
I  saw  those  cattle  making  for  the 
dry  wash  I  knew  what  it  meant,  and 
I  wanted  to  help.  Of  course,  I  did  n't 
know  how,  and  I  made  a  silly  spec 
tacle  of  myself;  but  I  did  want  to 
do  something  worthy,  and  —  and  —  I 
only  made  you  risk  your  life." 

"  That  was  nothing.  You  were 
perfectly  right,  Miss  Mildred,  and  no 
one  blames  you  in  the  least.  It  was 
such  an  accident  as  might  happen 

179 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

anywhere.  There  are  no  serious  con 
sequences  attached  to  it,  save  the 
pain  you  suffer,  but  that  will  pass, 
and  thank  God  you  were  n't  killed." 
Landry  blurted  it  out  before  he  could 
check  himself,  but  in  a  moment  he 
saw  his  mistake,  and  went  on  calmly, 
"  Your  father  would  never  have  for 
given  us  if  you  had  been  trampled 
out  there." 

"  Landry,  I  know  I  owe  my  life  to 
you.  How  can  I  thank  you?  What 
can  I  do  to  pay  the  debt?  " 

The  young  man  threw  up  his  head, 
and  there  was  a  light  in  his  eyes 
that  she  had  never  seen  there  before. 
Then,  with  a  bow  that  was  his  heri 
tage  from  some  old  Virginia  grand 
father,  he  replied,  "Consider  the  debt 
cancelled,  Miss  Mildred,"  and  turn 
ing  hastily  on  his  heel,  left  the  room. 

"He  is  angry  with  me,"  Mildred 

180 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

murmured.  "  I  did  everything  but 
scorn  him;  "  and  she  sat  down  crying 
softly,  but  bitterly. 

She  was  filled  with  both  sorrow 
and  anger.  She  would  not  admit  to 
herself  that  she  loved  Landry,  and 
had  done  wrong  to  refuse  him.  She 
attributed  all  her  misery  to  her  in 
ability  to  show  him  her  gratitude. 
Had  the  young  rancher  returned 
even  then  and  renewed  his  question, 
it  is  doubtful  that  she  would  have 
told  him  yes.  Unconsciously,  per 
haps,  but  nevertheless  dangerously, 
she  was  playing  with  her  own  feel 
ings  and  his. 

Her  mood  of  grief  was  succeeded 
by  one  of  distinct  pettishness.  "I 
am  sure,"  she  thought,  "  I  can  't  go 
on  my  knees  to  him  to  thank  him 
for  what  he  has  done.  I  do  appre 
ciate  it,  and  I  have  tried  to  tell  him 

181 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

so.  What  does  he  expect?  Oh, 
well,  I  do  hope  papa  will  satisfy 
him,  and  express  all  that  I  cannot.'7 

She  knew  perfectly  that  her  father 
couldn't  and  wouldn't, but  it  pleased 
her  to  be  perverse,  even  to  try  to 
deceive  herself. 

Some  one  knocked  at  the  door,  and 
Nina  came  in.  "  Please,  Miss  Mil 
dred,"  she  said,  "  Mr.  Heathcote  gave 
me  these  for  you."  "  These  "  was  a 
bunch  of  brilliant  red  and  white 
roses. 

"  Put  them  on  the  table,  Nina." 

"Yes,  miss;  can  I  do  anything  for 
you?" 

"No,  go." 

Evidently,  "miss"  was  cross,  and 
Nina  went. 

"  I  suppose  he  sent  all  the  way 
to  Denver  for  these,"  she  said, 
handling  the  flowers.  "  I  wish  he 

182 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

wouldn't.  Now  if — "  she  blushed 
furiously,  all  alone  as  she  was,  and 
threw  the  offending  flowers  into  one 
corner  of  the  room,  where  they  lay, 
the  white  and  the  red,  like  a  pale 
girl  bleeding.  She  sat  down  and 
brooded  awhile,  and  then,  relenting, 
picked  up  the  flowers  and  replaced 
them  in  a  vase. 

Woman  is  a  strange  creature,  and 
there  is  no  accounting  for  her  moods, 
and  this  is  hereby  acknowledged,  or 
else  one  would  be  helpless  before  this 
one.  For  suddenly  Mildred  burst  out 
laughing,  and  flying  to  the  couch,  hid 
her  head  in  a  pillow,  rising  at  last  to 
exclaim,  "  Well,  I  don't  care  if  I  do," 
and  to  sit  looking  with  dreamy  eyes 
into  the  fire,  and  a  smile  on  her  lips. 

Meanwhile,  Landry,  in  passing  out, 
had  encountered  Mr.  Osborne,  who 
was  in  wait  for  him. 

183 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"My  dear  Landry,"  exclaimed  the 
old  man,  holding  out  both  his  hands, 
"  how  can  I  ever  thank  you  for  the 
great  thing  you  have  done  for  me? 
Words  are  so  poor." 

"Don't  mention  it,"  said  Landry; 
"  it  was  nothing." 

"  Perhaps  you  may  regard  it  as 
nothing,  but  it  was  everything  to 
me."  There  was  deep  pathos  in  Mr. 
Osborne's  voice  and  great  earnest 
ness,  and  Landry,  looking  at  him, 
said  bitterly  in  his  soul,  "  Perhaps  I 
do  regard  it  too  lightly;"  but  aloud 
he  said,  "I  am  glad  to  have  been  able 
to  serve  you,  Mr.  Osborne." 

"I  hope  my  daughter  has  thanked 
you." 

"Oh,  she  has  thanked  me,"  was 
the  grim  reply. 

"  I  fear  she  has  hardly  said  all  that 
she  wishes  to  say  or  that  she  feels. 

184 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

She  is  like  me  there,  my  dear  boy ;  I 
can't  say  what  I  feel.  Just  take  it 
for  granted ;  and  if  ever  I  can  do  you 
a  service,  no  matter  how  great,  just 
call  on  me.  I  am  your  servant/7 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  said  Landry, 
hastily,  and  he  bolted. 

"  That  is  a  very  remarkable  young 
man,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  gently.  "I 
fear  Mildred  has  not  fully  expressed 
her  gratitude  to  him.  I  must  see ; ' : 
so  he  went  to  Mildred. 

He  found  her  still  musing  before 
the  fire,  with  the  smile  on  her  face 
and  a  wrinkle  between  her  brows. 
When  he  told  her  his  beliefs  and 
fears,  she  put  her  arm  around  his 
neck  and  drew  him  down  to  her. 

"  You  're  a  dear  old  papa,"  she  said ; 
and  that  was  all  the  answer  he  ever  got. 

And  Landry  went  off  to  be  miser 
able  by  himself. 

185 


CHAPTER  TWELFTH 

IT  was  not  exactly  anger  that  had 
driven  Landry  from  Mildred's  pres 
ence  with  high  head  and  flashing  eyes. 
He  felt  that  resentment  against  fate 
which  a  man  feels  when  his  sorrows 
are  not  the  fault  of  any  particular 
person.  He  had  left  the  presence 
of  the  woman  he  loved,  less  because 
her  inadequate  thanks  provoked  him 
than  from  the  fear  that  the  words 
which  were  tugging  at  his  heart 
would  strain  up  and  burst  from  his 
lips. 

"All  that 's  over  now,"  he  told  him 
self  bitterly.  "  I  can't  go  to  her  now, 
like  the  hero  of  a  dime  novel,  and 
ask  her  hand  in  return  for  her  life. 
It  would  be  cowardly,  and  it  would 
186 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

be  mean."  So  he  went  moping  mis 
erably  about,  all  his  enthusiasm  in 
life  dead  or  dormant. 

He  consistently  avoided  Mr.  Os- 
borne  and  Mildred,  much  to  the 
former's  surprise  and  the  latter 's 
grief.  Mr.  Osborne  knew  Landry  so 
little  as  to  think  now  that  he  had  so 
great  a  claim  that  he  would  renew 
his  suit,  and  successfully,  for  he  be 
lieved  that  Mildred's  gratitude  must 
ripen  into  love  for  her  saviour. 

Mildred  frankly  hoped  that  he 
would  speak  again,  but  knowing  him 
better,  she  expected  it  less.  It  was 
strange  now  that  repression  intensi 
fied  her  feelings.  She  saw  her  lover 
but  little,  but  she  thought  of  him  only 
the  more.  The  vision  of  him  was 
ever  before  her,  and  she  remembered, 
with  a  pleasure  so  keen  that  it  was 
almost  pain,  the  innumerable  little 

187 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

acts  of  kindness  and  consideration 
that  had  unconsciously  endeared  him 
to  her.  She  missed  their  long  rides 
together,  and  all  the  details  of  their 
sweet  companionship.  Fearing  that 
before  she  had  held  him  too  cheaply, 
she  now  placed  an  unwarrantably 
high  value  upon  him. 

So  the  days  went  on,  and  still 
Landry  did  not  come  to  her,  when 
one  day,  her  father  approached  her 
with  a  letter  in  his  hand.  His  face 
was  very  grave,  and  his  voice  shook 
as  he  said,  — 

"  Mildred,  I  have  just  received  a 
letter  from  your  aunt." 

The  girl  looked  up  apprehensively. 

"  Your  aunt  writes  me  that  she 
fears  that  I  have  not  kept  a  father's 
eye  upon  you,  and  that  you  are  being 
allowed  to  be  too  much  in  the  com 
pany  of  a  very  low  person  —  in  fact, 

188 


THE     LOVE    OF    LANDRY 

as  your  aunt  puts  it,  a  horrible  cow 
boy." 

Mildred  was  looking  angrily  at  her 
father  now,  but  her  anger  was  not  for 
him. 

"  Pray,"  went  on  the  old  man, 
"  whom  does  she  mean  ?  " 

"  She  means  the  cowboy  who  saved 
my  life  a  little  while  ago." 

"  She  —  she  —  cannot  mean  Lan- 
dry  I  " 

"  She  does,  and  she  has  written  me 
before  about  it." 

"  Hum,"  said  Mr.  Osborne,  gently, 
but  with  an  annoyed  look.  "  Your 
aunt  is  a  very  remarkable  person.  I 
shall  write  to  her;  I  shall  tell  her," 
his  voice  was  rising,  "that  Landry 
Thayer  is  a  gentleman,  and  my  friend, 
and  the  equal  of  any  man  I  ever 
knew." 

"  Oh,   papa,"   and  Mildred's  head 

189 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

was  hidden  on  her  f ather's  waistcoat, 
somewhere  in  the  region  of  the  heart. 

He  held  her  off,  and  looked  at  her 
blushing  face. 

"  Is  it  so  I  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  and  has  been  for  a  longtime, 
but  I  did  n't  know." 

He  took  his  daughter  very  gently 
in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her,  saying, 
"  I  am  very  glad." 

Meanwhile  Landry,  knowing  noth 
ing  of  the  happiness  in  store  for  him, 
and  hoping  nothing,  had  determined 
to  go  further  into  the  mountains  for  a 
shoot  with  Heathcote.  That  amiable 
young  Englishman  still  lingered,  and 
rode,  drove,  and  shot  with  the  joy 
that  only  a  true  sportsman  can  know. 
The  friendship  between  him  and  Lan 
dry  had  increased,  and  when  the  latter 
was  not  mooning  about,  they  were 
always  together. 

190 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

Mildred  had  been  seeing  almost  as 
little  of  the  one  as  she  had  of  the 
other.  It  was  Heathcote's  plan  to 
give  her  a  respite  from  his  importu 
nities,  and  maybe,  he  thought,  she 
would  come  round  to  his  way  of 
thinking.  He  had  decided  now,  on 
his  return  from  his  hunting  trip  to 
go  directly  East ;  so  the  day  before 
the  start  was  to  be  made,  he  came  to 
her  once  more. 

She  saw  his  purpose  in  his  eyes, 
and  would  have  saved  him  this  final 
humiliation,  but  he  would  speak. 

"  I  hope  I  'm  not  boring  you  too 
much,"  he  said  humbly,  "  but  I  have 
kept  silent  as  long  as  I  can,  and  on 
my  return,  I  shall  go  directly  Bast,  so 
I  thought  maybe  you  would  n't  mind 
giving  me  my  answer  now." 

She  looked  at  him  with  shining 
eyes,  and  he  took  a  moment's  hope, 

191 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

which  was  destined  to  be  dashed  im 
mediately. 

"  Arthur,  my  good  friend/'  she  said, 
"  I  will  not  keep  you  in  suspense.  I 
cannot  say  to  you  what  I  said  a 
little  while  ago,  for  now  I  do  love 
another.  I  thank  you  for  the  hon 
our  you  do  me,  for  it  is  an  honour 
to  be  loved  by  such  a  man." 

He  bowed  and  she  gave  him  her 
hand.  He  was  turning  away,  when 
suddenly  a  light  broke  through  the 
gloom  of  his  face,  and  he  came  back 
to  her  eagerly. 

"  I  say,"  he  began  awkwardly,  "  It 
could  n't  be  old  Landry,  you  know? ': 

u  It  is  Landry,"  she  said  firmly. 

"That's  good,  that's  good,"  he 
said,  with  a  ring  of  honesty  in  his 
voice ;  "I'd  rather  him  than  anybody 
else  except  myself.  I  congratulate 
you  both."  He  stood  pumping  her 

192 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

hand,  and  smiling  down  at  her, 
though  there  lurked  a  sadness  in  his 
eyes. 

' '  There  —  there  —  is  nothing  to 
congratulate  me  about.  Landry 
asked  me  before  the  stampede, 
and  then  I  did  not  know,  so  I 
refused  him.  He  has  not  asked  me 


since/' 


Heathcote  gazed  at  her  for  a  mo 
ment  in  silence,  and  then  he  turned 
abruptly  and  left  the  room. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  she 
cried. 

But  he  did  not  answer,  and  she  sat 
down,  suddenly  laughing  and  crying, 
both  together. 

There  was  no  mistaking  Heath- 
cote's  purpose,  and  Mildred  was  filled 
with  a  great  gladness,  while  her  heart 
quivered  with  fright.  Landry  would 
know,  he  would  know  that  she  loved 

13  193 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

him,  and  would  come  to  her.  Had 
she  been  unmaidenly  to  take  this 
method  to  let  him  know! 

Meanwhile  Heathcote  was  striding 
along  at  a  great  gait.  He  burst  into 
the  door  of  the  room  where  Landry 
sat  cleaning  a  gun. 

"  You  blooming  ass,"  cried  Heath- 
cote,  snatching  the  rifle  from  his 
friend's  hands,  "You  blooming,  idi 
otic  ass." 

•'  All  right/ '  said  Landry,  "  What 's 
the  matter?  You  're  getting  your 
hands  full  of  oil." 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  her!  "  said 
Heathcote. 

Landry  suddenly  stood  up,  his  nos 
trils  dilated  with  excitement. 

"  What  do  you  mean!  "  he  asked. 

"  She  loves  you,"  blurted  the  other 
"  I  've  just  asked  for  her  hand;  it 's 
about  the  seventh  time,  I  think. 

194 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

She'll  never  marry  me,  old  chap; 
you're  the  man/7 

aHow  do  you  know!  " 

Landry  was  trembling  like  a  leaf. 

"  Never  mind  how  I  know,  I  'm 
not  telling]  secrets,"  Heathcote  had 
shown  remarkable  reticence,  it  must 
be  admitted.  "  You  go  to  her,  and 
thank  your  Grod  it 's  you." 

"I  can't  do  it,  old  man,"  said  the 
ranchman,  sadly  taking  his  seat. 

"  Can't  do  it?  Why,  what  the  — 
Why,  man,  you  've  got  to  do  it." 

"I  can't,  I  can't !  And  how  I  wish 
I  could!" 

Heathcote  stared  at  him  with  wide, 
uncomprehending  eyes. 

"Well,  I  '11  be  —  Look  here ;  will 
you  tell  me  why?" 

"  Don't  you  see,  Heathcote,  that 
she  has  made  it  impossible  for  me  to 
marry  her,  or  even  to  ask  her.  Why, 

195 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

damn  it,  man,  if  I  should  take  her 
now,  it  would  look  as  if  I  had  bought 
that  sweet  girl's  life  by  an  act  of 
cheap  heroism.  Can't  you  see  that!" 

In  his  excitement,  Landry  sprang 
up,  and  seized  his  friend's  arm. 

"  If  any  one  else  spoke  of  your  act 
in  that  tone  and  that  manner,"  said 
Heathcote,  slowly,  "I  should  knock 
him  down.  You  did  a  great  thing;  a 
big  thing,  and  you  saved  a  woman's 
life.  Besides,  she  loves  you.  Gro  to 
her." 

"  I  have  told  you  why  I  cannot  go." 

Heathcote  put  his  hands  upon  his 
friend's  shoulders,  and  looked  him 
squarely  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  're  a  damned  fool,"  he  said, 
"  and  all  kinds  of  an  idiot  in  the  bar 
gain,  but  you  're  the  biggest  man 
I  Ve  ever  met.  You  may  call  me  a 
meddler,  or  what  you  please,  but  I  'm 

196 


THE    LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

not  going  to  let  you  suffer  and  make 
a  woman  suffer,  simply  because  Grod 
did  not  choose  to  give  you  a  fair 
amount  of  honest  British  vanity;" 
and  he  was  out  of  the  room  in  an 
instant. 

It  was  with  strangely  confused  feel 
ings  that  Mildred  saw  the  English 
man  coming  back  to  her.  What  was 
the  matter?  Why  did  not  Landry 
come  to  her?  Was  his  pride,  after 
all,  stronger  than  his  love  for  her? 
Her  face  burned  with  shame  at  the 
memory  of  the  means  she  had  taken 
to  bring  him  back,  and  the  longing 
she  had  to  hear  his  words  of  love 
again.  Heathcote  did  not  make  mat 
ters  better  as  he  reached  her.  He 
may  have  always  been  honest,  but  it 
is  true  that  he  was  seldom  tactful. 

"He  won't  come,"  he  blurted  out. 

"  Who  sent  for  him?"  said  Mildred, 

197 


THE     LOVE    OF     LANDRY 

rising  proudly.  "  I  am  sorry,  Mr. 
Heathcote,  that  you  so  little  respected 
the  confidence  I  gave  you. ' '  Her  anger 
was  rising,  her  face  was  blazing.  "  An 
American  gentleman,"  she  went  on, 
hotly,  "  in  a  like  circumstance,  would 
have  known  how  to  hold  his  tongue." 

"  Oh,  come,  now,"  said  Heathcote, 
shamefacedly,  "I  couldn't  help  it, 
you  know.  Landry  's  awfully  cut  up 
because  he  couldn't  come,  but  he's 
got  some  bally  idea  about  your  liking 
him  out  of  gratitude,  and  his  buying 
you  by  cheap  heroism.  It 's  all  silly 
rot,  you  know.  But  say,"  he  paused 
in  admiration,  "  that  fellow  's  fine." 

The  anger  had  left  Mildred's  face. 

"Does  he  feel  all  you  say!"  she 
asked. 

"  All  that,  and  more." 

She  came  down  the  steps,  and  put 
her  hand  on  Heathcote' s  arm. 

198 


THE     LOVE     OF     LANDRY 

"  Take  me  to  him,7 '  she  said,  simply.  , 

"  Now,  that 's  something  like/'  he 
said,  beaming  on  her,  as  if  he  were 
not  sealing  his  own  death-warrant. 

He  took  her  to  Landry's  door,  and 
left  her. 

Landry  sat  alone  with  his  head  in 
his  hands.  He  looked  up  at  her  step. 
Then  he  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  glad 
cry,  and  rushed  toward  her.  She  took 
a  step  toward  him,  and  only  smiled 
with  a  great  content  as  he  folded  her 
in  his  arms.  Beyond  the  one  glad 
cry  that  had  seemed  to  burst  like  a 
flame  from  the  lava  crust  of  his  heart, 
he  had  said  no  word,  and  Mildred, 
looking  up,  saw  that  he  was  sobbing 
silently,  as  only  a  strong,  reticent  man 
can  sob,  when  he  does  give  way. 

"Poor  Landry,"  she  said,  stroking 
his  head,  "  it 's  all  right  now,  and  we 
won't  misunderstand  any  more." 

199 


THE     LOVE     OF    LANDRY 

Later,  they  went  to  Mr.  Osborne, 
hand  in  hand.  But  they  had  no  need 
to  ask  his  consent.  He  was  as  happy 
in  their  love  as  they  themselves. 

When  Mrs.  Annesley  was  written 
to,  it  is  reported  on  good  authority 
that  she  fainted  at  the  first  lines  of 
the  letter,  and  could  only  be  brought 
to  with  much  trouble,  so  that  she 
could  finish  it.  When  she  found  that 
Landry  Thayer  was  something  besides 
a  cowboy,  she  consented  to  let  the 
maid  cease  fanning  her.  When  she 
found  out  that  Heathcote  was  to  be 
best  man,  she  quite  recovered,  and 
said,  bridling,  "  Well,  that  will  lend 
distinction  to  the  affair,  and,  well  — 
it 's  very  original,  anyway." 


200 


I 


m    21969 



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